


The Shadow of a Spider

by SpiderHuntsman



Category: David Bowie (Musician)
Genre: A Sensitive Man, Airplane Crash, Awkward Flirting, Cave, Cave Painting, Childish Behavior from David, Cold Weather, Cooking Over a Fire, David Needs Comforting, Deserted_Island, Explicit descriptions of sexual assault, F/M, Facing Fears, Fear_of_Future, Fishing, Food Comes from Where?, Gardening, Hunting, Isn't David Bowie Adorable?, It's NOT a Grocery Store, Learning_New_Skills, Medical Procedures, Mental_Trauma, Physical Trauma, Poor David, Possibility of Disability, Self-Pity, Serendipity!, Sexual Assault - Memories, Storms, Trauma, Vague descriptions of sexual assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 105,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderHuntsman/pseuds/SpiderHuntsman
Summary: In the aftermath of the Glass Spider Tour, David "Bowie" Jones finds himself dealing with stresses he could never have expected.  The aftermath of the tour, the possible serious injury of his son, and his own declining mental coping come together to set him on a path that leads him into the future.  Spiders have always followed him in his past, now one must help him rediscover his own inner strength and inspiration.
Relationships: David Bowie/Melissa Hurley, David Bowie/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. November 30, 1987: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paul (My very own David Bowie)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Paul+%28My+very+own+David+Bowie%29).



> The Shadow of a Spider is the first of three stories requested by my best friend Paul. For decades, he worked as a David Bowie celebrity lookalike, stopping upon announcement of the singer's death. This story begins at the end of the Glass Spider Tour and basically ignores everything that came after.

November 30, 1987 : New Zealand

The tall blond watched as the last pieces of the spider were erected. This behemoth that had plagued his waking moments for this tour and his nightmares in between. Around him he could hear the crash of his world as failure reached out. Reviews, crowds, critics pushed negativity to the fore, causing him to doubt everything he was doing, even what he had done and might be doing in the future. The spider, so beloved in the beginning, the creation he'd slaved over so it would be the perfect illustration of the story he wanted to tell through the music in this theatrical tour, now it only brought pain, both physical and mental. He stared at the field and had to shake his head. What had taken at least three days to prepare for each show had required less than two to move from the stadium where he'd performed the last show on the tour.

The Glass Spider. She'd stood above him almost every night, weather and space permitting. She'd felt motherly and protective in the beginning. He remembered standing beneath her for the first time in Rotterdam. She was beautiful. Even more beautiful than he'd imagined. The next day in rehearsal, he caught the first glimpse of how the spider might be viewed by his fans. The venue was relatively free of heavy security and many fans would sneak in to watch. He sent parts of his road crew out to interact with them, acting like they, too, were just fans who wanted a sneak preview of the tour. Some wondered what the thing was, others recognized it as a spider, but few caught the symbolism beyond the song that had inspired the idea in the first place. All seemed to enjoy what they saw and heard, so he felt everything would come together once the lights went up. He shivered slightly at the memory and wondered how he could have been so wrong.

The Glass Spider. By the last night, she was more comparable to a black widow, and her greatest desire seemed to be devouring parts of his heart and soul. He sighed softly as the last individual climbed down from the spider. He took several deep, shaky breaths as the last show's memories rushed through his mind. Standing close to the edge of the stage, he'd heard the cheers of the fans, but he saw confusion on many faces. He realized the symbolism of the spider hadn't conveyed the message of the music, the idea of reality versus unreality; rock versus the audience; perception versus presentation. He'd lived and breathed the show for months before the set was completed. His time, energy, and dreams had shaped the ideas contained therein. The opening song, The Glass Spider, should have set the tone. The overriding form of the spider was the outermost symbol of the ideas. He closed his eyes as he pictured one young woman's face at the beginning of the show. He'd only noticed her because she was wearing the same outfit, exactly the same outfit, as Melissa, the show's "planted" chosen audience member to be picked to come on the stage. They'd encountered something similar at other locations, so had taken to changing what she would wear right before the show. The clothes were the same, but her face and hair were very different; he wouldn't have made a mistake in picking the wrong individual. He remembered her face at the end of the show. Her earlier anticipatory expression had disappeared and was replaced with one of unease. He gave himself a mental shake and opened his eyes. The sun was almost setting. He'd been in a mental stupor for longer than he realized.

"Thank you." His voice carried easily over the silent field where the spider technicians were looking back at him. He looked at each face: some showed disappointment at what was ahead, others had previously expressed hatred of the temperamental monster they were responsible for, but a few had positive, anticipatory expressions. With surprise, he realized there were very few of the latter. Even some of those who had hated the spider and cursed it, appeared reticent to see it destroyed. "We'll wait until the sun sets." His words were stumbling and inelegant, mumbled before he lost his nerve in the face of the numerous sad expressions before him. He almost added something else, instead turned and played with the propane torch he'd bought at the local hardware store on the ride to the field. He hoped this would exorcise the demons that had settled in his stomach and plagued his thoughts. He had to smile weakly as he remembered the cashier's face as he checked out. She'd looked at him several times before her mouth opened in shock and recognition. He remembered the question, 'you're David Bowie, aren't you' followed by a soft squeal before she quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard her. The light blush of embarrassment crossed her cheeks when she took his money. As she placed the propane tank, torch, and striker in a bag, she did spare him a strange look. David paused and could guess she was wondering what he was planning on doing with the items.

"Let's say goodbye to our friend," the leader of the road crew said quietly as he turned his back on the singer. On one hand, he could understand why David felt he had to destroy the symbol that had brought him such pain, but on the other, he knew he would miss the spider that he believed was a thing of beauty. When he looked back over his shoulder, the forty-year-old singer was studying him. He turned back to the spider, standing tall and proud in the field. As the sun set behind her, he bowed his head. He'd worked on numerous tours for the singer, including his first theatrical extravaganza, Diamond Dogs. "This is my last tour. Goodbye, and thank you," he whispered toward the spider as he turned and left. He'd already turned in his resignation papers to David's assistant. He didn't turn back as several people called his name; he just kept walking. The sun was almost set and this was one spectacle he didn't want to witness.

David watched as Carl walked away, quickly leaving the field and entering one of the cars that had been provided for the crew. He frowned as the vehicle left almost immediately. The taillights glowed red a moment before pulling onto the main road and leaving. The man had been with him for most of his performing career and could always be counted on to make things happen, fix what was broken, and even bring a smile to his face when everything seemed to go wrong. He closed his eyes and thought about how often things didn't work exactly right on the Diamond Dogs tour and how a softly spoken joke into his earpiece made tolerable and somewhat exciting, that first unexpected thirty minute delay on being pulled back to the stage when the cherry picker decided it didn't want to work occurred. He'd been kept up-to-date on what was being done to fix the problem and insure his safety by the older man's soft voice. He opened his eyes and looked back to the spider. The sun was tucked beneath the horizon and the sky was aflame with pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows edged with purple, baby blue, and charcoal. His heart soared as he realized it was an image he wanted to capture on canvas or with his camera. He'd left it at the hotel, he realized with shock. He could only hope he could do the memory justice once he was back in his art studio, even without a photo or video.

As the cacophony of colors slowly disappeared from the sky, he looked at the torch in his left hand. A moment of doubt that he'd managed to set it up correctly flashed through his mind before being replaced with a feeling of whimsy if he screwed up and the damn thing just blew up in his hand. With that in mind, he did shift the torch into his right hand. "At least I can still fret a guitar if I lose my right hand." The moment of perversity passed as one of the spider technicians stopped him and nodded toward the torch.

"Safety first, Mr. Bowie," the young man said respectfully. "Two individuals check and verify, before any flame or application of heat."

"Of course." David handed over the propane torch. He realized this was the man who had performed welding repairs on the spider when they were needed. The wear and tear on the set were to be expected, but the spider had to be in perfect order so he and the dancers could safely perform night after night. He started as the propane tank was placed back in his hands. He frowned and looked at it as if it were possessed of its own wants and desires. ' _Will it hurt me, too?_ '

"Everything checks out, Mr. Bowie." The technician leaned in a little closer and spoke in a low voice so the others couldn't overhear. "Do you know how to light it?" He knew the singer wasn't the most mechanically adept individual he'd ever encountered.

"Ah, yes. I asked the young lady at the hardware store." For the first time since the show ended, David smiled. It was weak, subdued, almost bashful, but it was a real smile. He realized with a start that he already felt lighter.

"Smart. I wonder if she's single." David glanced at the technician in surprise. "Well, I'm always looking for someone and well, a girl who knows her way around a propane torch would be a good fit for a guy who likes to play with fire for fun."

"That's true. I have no idea if she is single. You could check the hardware store before flying home. If something positive begins, Ms. Schwab can make alternative arrangements for your travels." He knew the young man was American based on his accent, although he couldn't remember anything else about him. He pulled the bag and receipt out of his jacket pocket where he had crumpled them earlier. He shoved the bag back into his pocket before flipping the small piece of paper over and writing Deena on it. "Here. You'll find her in tools." He pressed the paper into the young man's hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Bowie. But why are you thanking me?"

"You helped me. Beyond your work on this tour. You helped me." The blond smiled and realized it was easier this time. "I hope things work out."

"Doubt it. I don't have any luck with girls." He paused as the other man's smile faded. "But, I'll give it a try. What do I have to lose?" He was happy when the smile returned.

"Give things a chance. Thank you," David paused and held out his right hand, a questioning look on his face

"David," the young man prompted and the pair shared a laugh.

"Thank you, David. So, you're the person who was really being called on to the stage for the show."

"Only when there were problems requiring the liberal application of flame." He chuckled. "Be careful when playing with fire. Trust me, you do not want to get burned." He glanced toward his gloved left hand nervously. "It only takes one mistake and you can wear the scars for life."

David nodded to acknowledge the sage advice. "Did it happen on the tour?" He couldn't remember someone being burned, just two individuals falling, one to his death. Neither had been wearing the provided safety gear, still their families would be taken care of. Family was important to him.

"No." The other David sighed. "When I was a kid just learning stuff, I was screwing around instead of paying attention to what I was doing and ended up burning my hand and wrist. It doesn't cause me any problems. I just don't like the reminder of being very young and even more stupid."

"You learned from it. And, you passed on the awareness. You are not stupid, you're experienced and knowledgeable." He liked the younger man. "Thank you, David."

"Of course, Mr. Bowie." He stepped away to stand next to one of the two women who were part of this spider crew.

David approached the base of one of the spider's legs and gently pressed a palm to it. For a moment, he could swear that he felt a pulse from the creature before realizing it was his own. His heart was racing. He asked himself a silent question, ' _is this the right thing to do,_ ' before glancing toward the spider's body. In the deepening night, the creature again felt motherly, protective. And, sad? The leg shifted beneath his hand as a gust of wind coursed over the field. He closed his eyes and knew it was now or never. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the flint striker before turning on the fuel and lighting the torch. He dropped the striker as he touched the blue flame to the material that made up the inner workings of the spider's leg. As one leg caught fire and the flames climbed toward the body, he placed his hand on the metal. He closed his eyes and had another moment of doubt as the spider seemed to groan. He'd never thought of himself as a firebug before, but the groan, whether real or imagined, sent a thrill through him because he knew it was caused by the flames he'd inflicted on the creature. He took a deep breath in recognition of the appeal. He could feel the heat radiating from the leg, the metal was starting to heat up, and flames were reaching out to stroke his arm. The smell of the various materials burning brushed against his nose, but the scent of the now burning cotton of his shirt didn't register.

"David!" The name cried out in a hushed whisper as he was physically dragged away from the spider's leg. "What the hell are you thinking?" The question was answered silently when hollow, blue eyes opened. There was no understanding in their depths. "David, please don't hurt yourself. You could have been burned; you could have injured yourself." Peter's words finally broke through as he patted the flames out on his friend's sleeve. "Come back and stand with me." He led the other man a distance away and stood guard by his side. "Thank you," he said softly to the young man who'd approached and removed the still lit propane torch. The men stood side-by-side as others lit the remaining spider legs and all waited for the metal to heat so the spider could come crashing down.

David frowned as the flames seemed to fade from his sight; his attention was focused on the burned cotton of his shirt sleeve. He swallowed hard when he realized that he could have been badly injured. A perverse twist of his mind offered the question, ' _did it matter,_ ' he closed his eyes as his mind added, ' _would anyone even notice I was gone,_ ' in that moment, he had no answer, although he had his doubts that his absence would matter, or that he would even be missed. His ears were closed to the various comments around him as the flames reached toward the sky, causing the stars to disappear. He opened his eyes and the golden flames turned his right eye from a rich blue to a strange alien orange; his damaged left eye more resembled a lump of coal than the normal tonal shift caused by ambient light. Still, his eyes appeared expressionless, almost dead to everything. His moment of levity with the young technician was forgotten as the vision of the burning spider took over. Impressions raced through his mind, jumbling into a mass of disjointed images, words, sensations, and other unidentifiable flashes.

Around the singer, whispered comments were passed around. How close he'd come to injury hadn't escaped notice. Many wondered if burning the spider had been the right thing. One technician talked about how temperamental it was, but it was always a reward to see it standing proud and shiny on the stage before shows and, how lonely it looked when the show was over just before the lights went out in the venues. Others presented similar view points while wondering about the mental health of their employer. None of them had been ignorant of the critics and negative reviews and many found them to be an affront to the magnificent piece of engineering they were responsible for. In response to one review that had commented about the spider and suggested it be cut up for scrap metal instead of being toted around the world, one technician had spit out that the idiot writing that crap should come to the venue while the spider was being assembled and see how beautiful it looked up close as it took shape. Only one person seemed to rejoice in the burning spider and everyone knew he was a firebug.

A lone figure, dressed in a dark women's suit exited one of the vehicles and slowly approached the group. She paused and looked at the spider whose legs were fully engulfed in flames. The inner core of flammable material was giving off deep, acrid odors and the heat, even at that distance made the night feel like high noon when the sun beat down on her. She shivered slightly as the groan of the metal reached her ears. For a moment it sounded like a person in pain. With several additional steps, she reached David's side and nudged Peter's arm. "I need to speak to David privately, please."

"Of course." Peter stepped away, but he'd noticed the concern in the woman's eyes. He silently wondered what could be up, but knew better than to ask. He returned his attention to the spider.

"David," Coco said quietly as she brushed her hand over his arm. She kept prompting, even taking his right hand in her left and rubbing along his forearm. Her concern grew when she encountered the charred fabric. Her normally distant, icy exterior melted away. She had to resist wrapping her arms around her boss to lend him her strength. This was neither the time nor the place for such a display. For the first time since the middle '70's, she felt fear for David, both physically and mentally. "David," she whispered as she brushed her fingers over his chest. He reacted slightly with a shift in his breath and his eyes blinked for the first time since she'd reached him. "David."

David turned toward the woman and quickly grasped her right hand in his left, drawing it away from his chest, but not releasing it. He blinked several times before turning his full attention to her. With a sense of surprise he realized that she'd been trying to get his attention for some time. "Um," he stuttered as his eyes shifted back to the spider momentarily before finally focusing completely on the dark-haired woman. "Coco?"

"Please, come with me." She glanced toward the rest of the assembled group. Some would steal glances toward them, but most were focused on the burning spider. "I need to speak to you. It's very important."

"Of course." David walked beside her but pulled up right before they reached the line of vehicles: cars, vans, and the tour buses. "What is it, Coco. You're scaring me."

"I received a phone call from the office. It's about Joe."

"What about him," David questioned his expression shifting to panic.

"They had very little information, just that he was being rushed to the hospital." She rushed on as David started to shake. "They were told that he'd been in a car accident." After several minutes of silent stillness from the singer. She touched his arm, "David?"

"What?"

Coco realized that David had closed off. His mind couldn't or wouldn't process the information. She knew he'd been struggling for weeks, barely holding his emotions together. This tour had taken a lot out of him, physically and mentally and for the first time, she recognized how much. She prided herself on her ability to recognize the warning signs he gave off, but she'd been blindsided this time. He'd hidden everything under false smiles and flippant jokes. For the first time in a long time, she was frightened for him. They'd spoken about the negative reviews and critic's cruel words. Coco knew they hurt, but she'd underestimated how much. Now that she was aware, she brushed her fingers over his arm and tried noticing other signs of his decline. Her hand paused at his elbow, the bones were pronounced. As her fingers traced over his forearm, she ignored the charred fabric, and felt the defined bones. ' _Oh, David, you've lost so much weight._ ' For a moment, she wondered if he was using again. It would explain his mental shift, but she quickly shook the thought away. He barely ever left her sight; she would have known long before this if he had turned back to drugs. Also, she knew his determination to never use anything again. The tour doctor they had hired to travel with David had fits even getting the singer to use over-the-counter pain medications for the aches and pains the physicality of the tour inflicted on him. The few times he'd sustained injuries, some quite serious, he'd pushed through the pain, sometimes for days, before it became too intense to ignore and even then, the doctor had to practically force prescription pain management on him. "David," she whispered, trying again to reach him. "Come with me, David."

His blond head nodded as he followed her without comment and without understanding. The pair reached the row of parked vehicles just as he pulled up and gasped for breath. "Coco?"

"David," she began as his legs gave out and he crashed to his knees. "David," she whispered as she glances around. The burning spider is a blessing for now, the bright light and glowing heat would destroy the night vision of anyone who might be looking their way. The shadows wrapped around them providing them sanctuary. "Oh, David." Her voice crooned his name as she finally wraps her arms around him, lending him her strength. She stays with him as he shakes and shudders in silence. After several minutes, he managed a single sob as he pulled away. For a moment she's worried that he's closing off again. His eyes are cast in shadows so deep that they look the same; a jarring effect when one is used to the normal imperfection that makes him so identifiable.

"Joe," David manages to say before gasping a breath and swallowing hard. "Tell me again," he orders.

Coco explains the message again, her words slow and gentle. She sees understanding enter his eyes when they're illuminated for a moment by a passing car. Where she still touches his arms, she feels a momentary jerk and shudder. Then dismay spreads across his face.

"No other information," David questions and nods as Coco shakes her head. "I need to get home. Immediately." He struggles to his feet. He can feel all the punishment he's put his body through for this tour and gasps for breath as a sudden, sharp pain races from his feet through his knees all the way to the base of his skull. "No time for this," he hisses under his breath. He feels every day of forty years, perhaps even older, but his discomfort has to wait. "You need to stay with everyone and make sure they get home and everything is wrapped up." David pulled his normal professionalism around himself and glances toward the spider. "There will be clean up fees and pay for the fire teams." He moves toward the vehicles and opens the door of the first vehicle they reach, helping Coco climb in before entering behind her. "Airport," he orders the surprised driver.

"David, I couldn't find a flight." She glances toward the driver. "And, this isn't my car." She grabs his arm and exits the vehicle, dragging him along behind her before shoving him into the vehicle she'd arrived in. "Airport! Now!" Her driver quickly exited the small parking lot and headed to the airport.

"I have to get home."

"David, I couldn't find a flight," she repeats. She knows her words aren't reaching him, but she had to try. She tried threading her arm through his, but he pulls away and shakes his head as he repeats the mantra of having to get home. She sits next to him in silence, she's worried about how he'll react when he can't find a flight. She settles for settling a single finger against the outside of his thigh; a touch so light it goes unnoticed. They pull into the small airport they flew into and has only one airline serving Europe. She places one hand on David's arm as they enter the deserted airport grounds. On the sidewalk, there isn't even a single individual standing around and only parked cars in the lot. Even she is shocked at how empty the place feels even though she was aware the airport only had one last remaining flight taking off around midnight. She knew it was a predominantly cargo flight with no seats left. She'd tried to find a private plane to Sydney, and a direct flight to Switzerland from there, but even those were unavailable for at least two days.

David had the car door open and was out even before the vehicle had fully stopped. He strode through the front doors into the deserted concourse, if it could be called that, and walked up to the single counter. The young woman closing things down looked up in shock as he placed his hands on the edge of the counter. He could see a plane outside of the window looking out the gate. "I need on that flight. It's to Europe, right?" With surprise, he realized that not only was it the airline they flew in on, it appeared to be the only one available for flights in to and out of the airport. Beyond that, he was oblivious to both time and conditions.

Coco was a couple of steps behind him, but her quick glance around the space told her of the futility of his actions. It was almost empty: a family of eight or ten people all curled up together and a pair of women, one evidently traveling, the other had only a purse and she knew no woman only traveled with just a purse. Even as practical as she was, she always had a carry on bag, at least. She turned her attention to the counter where David had slammed his hands down harder than he should have.

"I need to get home. I need to be on that flight. My son needs me." David's words weren't spoken loudly, but his voice carried because of his years of singing, projecting without conscious thought. He was becoming agitated and for a moment, Coco worried that he'd become completely unhinged and be escorted out by security if there was any. "I can't have this," he mumbled as he shook his head. It was one more thing to hit him and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He could feel his heart pounding and he was beginning to feel light-headed. He had a splitting headache and the shocking pain he'd felt earlier just standing up was now a constant throb interspersed with sharp stabs.

"Mr. Bowie," the clerk started, "I'm sorry, Sir, but there aren't any additional seats. This flight is extremely limited and I can't open a seat, even for you." She smiled as her eyes glittered. She was starstruck as he was her favorite singer ever since she'd first heard Let's Dance. "If I could do something, override the computer, I would." Her last words weren't even processed by David as he shook his head.

"I have to get home. My son needs me." His voice broke as his emotions overwhelmed him. He stood with his mouth moving, but no sounds came out.

Coco took the last step to his side and touched his arm as footsteps approached them. She didn't turn to look at who was coming, she feared it was security and that was something David truly couldn't handle right now.

"Sir," a woman's voice broke in. Coco's eyes snapped toward the woman she'd seen standing near the breezeway with numerous guitars, wearing a heavy backpack. David's eyes shifted toward the voice before he shuddered. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help overhearing what you were telling Karen."

The airline worker smiled at the woman. She flew in and out of the airport at least once a month and was well known to all the staff. Always kind and courteous, she also had a habit of giving them fresh, homemade baked goods or their favorite snacks. She always remembered their favorite things and had kind words. The clerk knew the woman was some type of musician because she always traveled with numerous instruments, but beyond that Karen had no idea what she did. ' _Maybe she can solve this problem,'_ the young woman thought.

"I have seating on the plane. Where are you going in Europe?" The woman frowned when no answer was forthcoming. She wondered if the man, she'd finally identified as David Bowie although he seemed to be behaving in a very strange manner, understood her.

"He needs to get to Switzerland. Montreux specifically."

The woman glanced toward the woman standing next to the singer and paused a moment as she tried identifying where she recognized the voice from. She nodded and smiled as she opened a travel envelope stamped with the airline's brand seal, drawing out a ticket. She returned her gaze to the overly thin man. "Here's a ticket. I'm sorry, but you'll have to answer to Strat Fender for the flight, Mr. Jones. This plane flies into London, from there you can accompany me on my plane to Montreux."

Coco looked at the woman warily, glancing toward the stack of instruments, now being guarded by the other woman. ' _Is she trying to get to David? What's her angle?_ ' Coco drew a shocked breath when the stranger's attention returned to her. She looked more closely at their apparent gift horse, noting the neatly styled hair, not fancy, but clean and finished. The clothes were nondescript, just common items you'd find in any store; not current, but more classically styled than what most people were wearing today. The most unusual items were the heavy army boots the woman wore and the long leather men's trench coat that almost rested on the tops of the boots. Coco understood the purpose of the footwear when the other woman shifted her body to balance her weight more evenly. She recognized the movement because it was something David did when he'd over exerted himself in the studio or during rehearsals. ' _The boots help support her ankles._ ' She thought that would be a good suggestion to make to David.

"Where do I know you from?" The woman's question took Coco by surprise. "I know I've dealt with you, or met you, or something. I never forget a voice that is connected to an intelligent, professional individual."

"I don't know. I'm Mr. Jones's personal assistant and have been since the early '70's."

"MainMan." The woman shook her head and smiled. "You're the woman I dealt with when I had to contact MainMan Productions. You were the only one with a brain over there. You helped solve some problems with the Mott album from Mott the Hoople. The studio was using the wrong production tracks. I swear I fought with at least ten people at that place before finding you. They did nothing, you solved the problem in less than an hour." The woman's smile expanded. "Five months later, I could have used your help again, but I was told you had left. Now, I know where you went." Her blue-gray eyes glanced toward the singer who hadn't stopped staring at the ticket in his hands. "I'm Melanie Huntsman, more typically known as Spider." She held out her hand to the shorter woman and after shaking hands, dug out a neatly printed business card with her name, American and European addresses and phone numbers, as well as various record company information on the reverse.

"Corinne Schwab." Her mouth opened in surprise as she remembered the events of the story the woman had told. "I remember that. It was one of the last things I did before becoming David's personal assistant." She smiled, her wariness had lessened, but not disappeared completely.

"Is he going to be okay?" Spider was looking at David. His earlier behavior had been disturbing, but in some ways his new behavior was somewhat more so.

"You heard him talking."

"Yes, I have no children, so I can't image the level of worry he's going through, but I am the medical contact for a number of friends, who are like family to me. I have no family, so they take the place. When I've been called in, the level of fear is almost paralyzing or reaches the point of panic. He said that his son needs him. That alone is enough reason to give him a seat. He should be there for his son; that's beyond important. I can't pass up a chance to help a father reach a child who needs him." She quickly glanced at the clock above the entrance. "The plane should be boarding in about five to ten minutes."

"I'm worried about him," Coco admitted.

"I promise to get him there." Spider studied David's face and body language. "Will he be okay flying? I didn't think he flew."

"He never used to, but he seems to have pushed past his fears. Although I am worried about his reactions." The two women focused on him. The singer was zoned out, apparently focused on the ticket, although his eyes were partially closed. Physically, his breathing was erratic and his pulse was visible at his neck, his hands shook slightly as he gripped the ticket even more tightly. "He's going to need help. He's been having a hard time and everything seems to have crashed around him tonight."

"The end of a tour is always emotionally difficult. This tour perhaps more so, for him," the woman's voice paused as she thought about everything surrounding the tour. She'd seen the show several times in different cities and had found it to be imaginative, emotional, and expressive. The last show two nights before had been so polished, she found it difficult to believe the critics and reviewers, and even some fans, hadn't found it as interesting and amazing. And with a name like Spider, she had fallen in love with the mechanical masterpiece that overlooked the entire spectacle. "Personally, I loved the show."

"You follow David?"

"I try to follow everyone out there. I'm a session musician, on paper at least, and never know when I might be called on to work with someone, but in the case of Mr. Jones, I fell in love with his music even before I was professionally involved in the field. I was given his first album as a birthday present by my best friend. He knew I loved British folk and British rock and he picked the album up when he was on vacation in London. He thought I'd enjoy it and I did. Shortly after becoming a session musician, I had a job that took me to London to record and I picked up his next album with Space Oddity on it. I had a hard time believing both records were by the same individual because his voice, music, and expression had matured so much in such a short time. That type of rapid growth usually spells success, so I watched, waited, and listened. Heck, I even dragged the records to some of the record companies I dealt with regularly. I wanted them to listen to them, maybe contact him directly. I was young," she said with a shrug, "I didn't understand how everything worked, yet. I just wanted to hear more out of him." She saw the distrusting expression flash across Coco's face. "Don't get me wrong. I'll admit that I'd love to work with him, but this is neither the time, nor the place to talk business. What is important is that we get Mr. Jones to his son. Also, I've had people call me a mother-hen. I tend to be extremely protective. That always takes the fore, even before business."

Coco broke in with a wave of her hand. "Still, he really is going to need help. I'm not sure how he's going to react to anything. I'm not sure..." Her voice faded away as David's eyes flitted toward Coco and a brief flash of anger was reflected in them.

"It's okay. He's going to be just fine." The woman smiled at the silent war that was breaking out between the pair. "He's much stronger than most people realize. Also, I'm used to dealing with temperamental personalities," she smiled more widely as the mismatched blue eyes flashed toward her, "I'm a producer, mixer, musician, professor, and sometimes babysitter. Trust me, I've dealt with much, much worse than what Mr. Jones can throw at me. Try working with people who have difficulty stringing two words together, but think they're going to be the next David Bowie or a group that can't even tune their guitars, yet think they'll be the next Rolling Stones." She shook her head as she thought of some of the people she'd worked with over the years. "I'll take someone with Mr. Jones's intelligence any day. He might be in need some support right now, but he will deal with everything and come through even stronger and more creative than before. That's what I believe." She was relieved when the blue eye shifted from anger to thoughtful as her words registered. She glanced up as the breezeway door was released. "The plane will be boarding in a matter of minutes. If you want temperamental, just screw with my guitars, you'll see what temperamental looks like. I'm well known here; they send someone to board me. We just have to be patient a few more minutes."

David fidgeted as he kept glancing at the open door. He wanted to race toward it and force the plane to take off immediately.

"Okay," Coco finally said quietly. She handed David's overnight bag over to the woman. "Keep him safe. Protect him, not just from others, but from himself. I'll be back in Switzerland as soon as I wrap everything up over here. He gave me some final orders that I still have to finish."

"I will. I promise." She glanced toward the pilot who stopped a short distance away from her. "Captain Franks, you're in charge tonight." She smiled.

"Yeah. How's my favorite pain in the neck doing tonight?" He smiled, softening the negativity of his words.

"Good. The sessions over here were a blast. And, I saw a great concert a couple nights ago. Today, we laid down a finished album for the Hellbender Mud Puppies."

"Aren't they great? They've been playing at my favorite restaurant for almost a year."

"They're a blast. I feel good about them getting a recording contract; it'll all come down to how others react to them. They are very unique and in this musical environment, that may or may not be a good thing."

"It'll be a good thing. Speaking of one of the Hellbenders," he said as he nodded toward the entrance.

"Phillip!" The woman smiled as the man pulled up out of breath. "Breathe, it's okay."

"Here, finished the recording." He stood and waved toward his wife who was still watching Spider's guitars. "Guess I should have brought a second disc." He recognized the pilot.

"You can give me one in a few days. I'll fly back and be at your performance on Wednesday." The pilot grinned. He'd originally hated these cargo flights, but they were less stressful than dealing with planeloads of passengers and since Spider usually flew on them, he could always talk to her about one of his favorite topics, music. Although he knew she had diverse interests that didn't intersect with music, he never strayed from that single subject. One flight, he'd even asked her to play for him. His co-pilot on that trip had been aghast and the flight attendant refused to work with him ever again. "I think they're ready to board. We might have an interesting flight with her."

Spider's lips tightened for a moment. "Not interesting as long as she leaves us alone."

"She can deal with the family in business class."

"Perfect." Spider said with a nod. "Just stay with me, Mr. Jones."

"David," he corrected.

"Okay, David. Ms. Schwab, thank you for entrusting David to my care. I promise that I'll keep him safe."

"Thank you." Coco nodded. "I'll watch from the car." She rushed from the airport before anyone could say anything more. She had a bad feeling about things and hoped it didn't mean dreadful news about David's son. She found him a wonderful, beautiful young man. Far more level-headed than his father and so far had avoided the pitfalls that the older Jones had fallen into.

"Oh, Captain Franks," Spider tapped the pilots arm, "may I introduce you to David Jones, stage name David Bowie. David, this will be our pilot for the flight, Captain Franks." She turned toward the other man, now breathing more normally, "this is Phillip Rush, the lead singer of the Hellbender Mud Puppies. Phillip."

"It cool. I know who Mr. Bowie is. Wow," he continued mumbling incoherent ramblings as he just stood shaking his head and grinning like an escapee from an insane asylum.

"Okay," Spider drew the word out into multiple syllables and chuckled. ' _Hopefully things will go better with Phillip's wife,_ ' she thought with a silent sigh as she let the musician and pilot to her guitars and the woman guarding them. She quickly introduced the woman, Marsha Rush to David and shook her head when the woman failed to string two intelligible words together. "Bye, you know where to find me. I promise to keep in touch and remember," she stressed the next words as Phillip wandered over, "contact Brian at Columbia as soon as possible. They really are a great company to work with and he's always been good about returning calls and answering questions. He's expecting your demo as well as direct contact." The two women hugged and Spider picked up two of her guitars, the pilot surprised her by picking up the other two. The trio of the pilot, one musician turned pack-mule, and the other who was struggling just to hold everything together quickly boarded the plane. David stopped as he stepped aboard the plane and glanced around. His usual reticence about flying always reasserted itself. Although, this time, he wasn't certain he'd be able to push past it in his current mental state.

"I'll have these put in the cargo hold." The pilot held up the pair of guitars he carried. "Stephanie," he prompted the flight attendant, "take Spider's guitars and belt them into their seats." His voice held a level of warning that broached no back talk, still when the woman did exactly as told, he was shocked.

Spider turned her attention to the man she'd promised to get home to his son. "David." His mismatched eyes turned to her face and the flash of fear that passed through them was not lost on her. "It's going to be all right, David." She gently brushed her hand over his arm, surprised at the charred fabric, but even more shocked at how thin he was. She'd always thought of him as lean and lanky, yet well built. Because of his slim build, he always appeared far taller than he actually was, but the arm she felt through the fabric was nearly emaciated. She hid her shock and worry behind her professional facade, forcing a smile to her face. Still, she silently wondered what she'd gotten herself into by taking on the task of watching over a man who didn't appear to be in the best physical or mental health.

"We're in first class; this way." She led the way to seats across the aisle from her guitars which had not only been restrained by seat belts, but also bungee cords around the upper reach of the necks of the cases, firmly connecting them in their seats. She settled her backpack and his carry on under the seats in front of theirs, as David glanced around as if unsure what was expected of him. "Do you like to sit by the window?" She again paused as the man processed the question. She took the chance to look him over more closely and became even more worried. At well over six feet tall, she was almost five inches taller than him, but she felt like a giant because he was stooping deeply, his shoulders rolled forward as if he was in pain. She realized with a start, he probably was. His performances were extremely physical with dance moves, his normal body movements, and his periodic frenetic restlessness as he reacted unconsciously to the music and the energy feedback from the audience. She could see the bones of his spine where they protruded from his collar. His face, always thin with pronounced cheekbones, was bordering on gaunt and for a moment, her memories flashed back to his Thin White Duke persona of the 70's. She knew he'd been even thinner then, but for different reasons. Now, she could only posit that the physicality of the tour had caused him to lose weight, probably exacerbated by missing meals or just not eating correctly, or enough.

"Um, what?" The mismatched blue eyes appeared confused, but David was trying very hard to understand and answer the woman's question.

"Window?" She waved toward the seat next to the window where one could look out. "Or do you prefer the aisle?"

"Not window."

"Okay." She reached down and opened the seat belt, moving the two halves to hang over the armrests. "If you sit down, I'll get you belted in. First, do you need to use the facilities? Now would be the time. You won't be able to move around until we're at altitude." After a minute of silence, she wonder if the question was too much and if she should just take him to the lavatory and push him in with the hope he'd be able to take care of things on his own.

"I, uh," David stuttered, "I, uh, should, uh, try going. Um, I think, it's been a while." A touch of color appeared on his cheeks as he realized that he should be embarrassed that she'd thought she had to question him that way.

"Smart," she leaned in conspiratorially, trying to relieve his discomfort, "for some reason, I always forget to go before take off and end up tapping my foot while I wait for the minute I can stand up and run to the restroom." She smiled gently. "I was going to go as well." She took a step toward the first class restrooms. "Come on." Spider gently rested her hand on David's forearm, not really directing him, but trying to lend additional support. "Go on," she nodded toward the first room, "I'll wait for you."

"Uh, okay." He entered the room, but didn't fully close the door behind him.

"Stephanie, I'll be right back out." She entered the lavatory and exited as quickly as she could. "He's not finished?"

"No. He's just sitting in there."

"Why the change tonight?" She figured she'd give David a few more minutes and was genuinely curious of why Stephanie was acting so differently on this flight.

"I love David Bowie. Also, well Phillip is my brother." Stephanie added the last under her breath. "Thank you for what you're doing for him and Marsha and the band. No one else seemed interested in helping them even try to follow their dreams."

"You're welcome, but they deserve it. They really are good and so much fun to work with." She smiled. "I just hope everyone enjoys them as much as I do."

"Yeah." Stephanie glanced toward the cockpit door and nodded before returning her attention to the other woman. "You might want to try helping him. The Captain wants to get moving."

"Okay. You know I'm familiar with the flight instructions. You might want to read them to the family in business class. I'll get David safely in his seat." She watched the woman leave and had to admit that there was a sense of relief that the previous friction had disappeared. She didn't like conflict and realized the idea that this would be a less than pleasant flight because of Stephanie had been weighing on her more than her worry about the man she'd taken responsibility for. "David," she prompted quietly as she tapped on the door jam to the lavatory, "we need to take our seats. Are you all right in there?" She could see he was just sitting there, his pants around his ankles.

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

"I'm not sure." His words were hesitant and spoken so softly that she wouldn't have been able to hear them at all if the door wasn't open.

"Can I come in?" She frowned at the thought of invading his privacy, but didn't know what else to do.

"Uh, uh, no, I'll be right out."

Spider glanced away as David grabbed toilet paper and made sure he was clean and turned completely away as he redressed. He was dealing with enough without adding being gawked at. She could hear the water run and him washing his hands, but failed to hear him take towels to dry them. His soft words of 'there are no towels' reached her ears and she had to smile as she grabbed several from the second lavatory and reached around the door jam to pass them to him.

"Thank you." David quickly dried his hands and wondered for a moment where he was and why the woman was talking to him as if she was his minder. ' _Where is Coco,_ ' he thought. His chest felt tight as confusion raced through his mind while he tried catching up on what was happening around him. "Um, who are you?" The singer stood in the doorway and glanced at the woman before him. "Where's Coco?"


	2. December 1, 1987: Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes come in many ways. Some are gradual, others crash and burn through your body, heart, and soul with a vengeance that only the strongest will survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A question was asked of me in real life concerning the name of the original female character. Specifically why she shares my name. Well, it's because Paul requested it. She's an amalgamation of the three most important women in Paul's life: Melanie was his sister and is the medical/pilot aspect, "Glass" (the name will have significance much later in the story) was his late wife and is the musician/physical aspect, and "Spider" Huntsman, me, contributes the hunter/skydiver/adventurer/crazy weird skills/over-educated nerd aspect.
> 
> This chapter does have a warning of intense situations and multiple deaths. Some graphic descriptions of the desperate actions taken to have a chance at survival, a plane crash/break up, and physical injuries.

~~~~~

December 1, 1987

"Coco? You mean Corinne Schwab?" He nodded. "She had to finish things up in New Zealand. She mentioned that she'd be in Switzerland as soon as possible and that she'd watch the plane take off from her car."

"You?" He looked like a lost little boy for a moment.

' _Perhaps a lost boy who's been abandoned in a shop,_ ' Spider thought as she smiled at him. "My name is Melanie Huntsman, but almost everyone calls me Spider. I had an extra ticket and I gave it to you." She paused as David processed her words and he nodded. "This flight will end in London," she held up a hand as panic raced through his eyes, "I have a private plane in London that will take us on to Switzerland. We will be there in time for dinner." She continued smiling as her new words settled his panic. She hadn't added that the private plane was her own and that she'd be flying it. Those were details best left to be added, after, he was more focused. "Right now, we need to take our seats so the flight can take off."

"Oh, okay. I'm David."

"Glad to meet you David." Spider extended her right hand and felt relief when he not only shook her hand, but appeared to be calmer and exhibiting a more focused mental state. "Shall we go to our seats?" He nodded and seemed to force a weak smile to his lips.

The pair returned to the seats and she indicated for him to take the aisle seat. "You can have the window if you'd prefer," she offered when he appeared nervous and hesitated to take his seat.

"No. I just wondered how you knew which seat I take."

"You told me when we first boarded."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm, um, worried about Joey." He frowned and swallowed hard when he realized the woman might not know who he was talking about. "My son. I was contacted that he was in a car accident and was being rushed to the hospital."

Spider nodded as a larger picture was painted. She'd been aware that David had a son, but she'd always thought his name was Zowie, a variation of the more typical Zoe or Zoey, used as a girl's name. She'd liked the name, even though it was very unusual and had probably brought the boy a lot of grief over the years. The meaning of the name, life, was appealing. "Your worry is understandable. Children are very important. Remember, just because he was involved in a car accident and is being taken to the hospital does not mean he has life threatening injuries." The surprised jerk of David's head showed her that he hadn't thought about more than reaching his son. "It's typically recommended that anyone involved in a vehicular accident be checked out in an emergency room."

"How do you know that?"

"I have a degree in medicine and my first specialty was trauma management and trauma surgery."

David blinked his eyes and glanced toward the guitars on the opposite side of the aisle.

"It's a long story," Spider answered to the unspoken question. "In short, I have personal reasons I'm not in the medical field. Also," she shrugged, "I make way more money in music than I would have working in medicine. I still maintain my skills through volunteer work, but I do not actively practice."

He looked more closely at the woman. She seemed relatively nondescript aside from the intelligence that flashed through her eyes and her gentle, very calm voice. He suspected that voice could be raised in anger or with harsh words and be commanding, but right now, it felt like a healing balm on his shredded emotions. "Do you sing?" She nodded in answer. "He glanced away and frowned before looking back. "Are you trying to use me to get into the music business?"

Spider shook her head and chuckled gently. "No. I'm already in the music business. I don't need any help there. And, David," she gently brushed over his arm, "I probably made more than you did this year. I'm a session musician as well as producer, mixer."

"And sometimes babysitter," David finished. The words broke into his thoughts.

"Yes, and sometimes babysitter." Spider smiled, drawing an answering smile from David.

"Is that what you're doing with me?"

She was surprised by the words, and especially the pain she heard in his voice as he pronounced them. "No. I'm getting you home to your son. You don't need a babysitter." She paused a moment and thought about what she could say that wouldn't hurt David, but would lift him up. "You need a friend."

"A friend," David whispered as he nodded. "Yes, a friend. I like that better than a babysitter."

"Let's grab our seats." She waited for David to settle into the seat before double checking that it was in a fully upright position and fastening the seat belt for him, adjusting it so it was snug, but not tight. She moved past him and took her own seat, performing the same procedure for herself. A glance at his face, showed that David's several minutes of lucidity were being overpowered by his fear of flying. "David," she prompted, drawing his eyes to meet hers. "It's going to be all right. Take everything one minute at a time. Just one step, then the next, then the next. For now, you and I are just friends sitting next to each other. That's step one."

David nodded. He gasped as the plane pulled away from the breezeway with a jerk.

"Focus."

The engines fired up fully and filled the cabin with a hint of a roar that bothered his sensitive ears. For a moment, he wondered how he'd ever performed without the industrial quality hearing protection he'd worn for the last decade. The woman's gentle voice carried beneath the other sounds and provided a focal point. He felt his heart beat slow down, his breath didn't feel as tight, and his shoulders relaxed away from his ears to a more natural position. He didn't really hear the words she spoke, but even as the engines reached their full whine and he was pressed into the seat as they lifted off, his body continued to calm.

"David?"

"Too much," he managed to say with a sharp cry before his eyes fell closed and he lost consciousness.

Spider had watched as the singer's face showed so many emotions in rapid succession. As his fear lessened, everything else started to overwhelm him. She'd released her own seat belt and shifted in her seat in time to catch him as he pitched forward. She forced him to rest back into the seat. He couldn't fall out of the seat because of his own seat belt, but she didn't want him to suffer any discomfort. The webbing rested across the points of his hips and she knew it could irritate the skin and with how thin he was, she feared it could result in open sores. She brushed his hair back and had to grimace at the stiff hairspray coating it. That answered a question she'd had about how his hair always stayed perfect when he was tossed around on the stage.

"Is he going to be all right," Stephanie asked. When she saw Mr. Bowie apparently collapse, she'd rushed up, holding onto the seat backs even as the plane continued to climb to altitude. "Put on your seat belt."

"I will." Spider braced herself better against the shifting forces of the plane. "I'm a pilot as well as a frequent flier. I know the rules, but I need to make certain that he's taken care of." She quickly touched the pulse at his neck before testing the bilateral pulses at his wrists. The charred fabric of his shirt sleeve brought a frown to her lips and she wondered how it had been damaged. She resisted the urge to check his arm to see if he'd sustained any injury. He hadn't reacted to any contact, so it appeared unlikely, but he'd been so disoriented that he may have been oblivious to pain from a minor or even major burn. "Hi, David," she said quietly as his mismatched blue eyes opened.

"Uh, Melanie," he said uncertainly. Looking inward, David realized he was exhausted. He hadn't slept since the last show, moving the spider had consumed him. The idea of ending the nightmare was all encompassing. Now, he just wanted to sleep for a year, but he had something important he needed to do first. ' _Important, what was it,_ ' he asked himself silently, ' _Joey!_ ' His son's face flashed across his memory and he felt panic race through him before a gentle voice calmed him. He looked confused for a moment before realizing it was the woman's voice.

"David. You're safe. Everything is going to be all right. Try to rest," her words were cut off as Stephanie leaned across them.

"What's that? What's burning down there? It's huge!" Stephanie's rapid questions and cry made Spider pull away.

"It's the spider," David whispered after glancing out the window, seeing the flames reaching high into the sky. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly.

"It looks out of control," Stephanie cried out as she pulled away, realizing that she was almost laying all her weight across Spider's shoulders.

Mismatched blue eyes met gray ones. David quickly looked away from the concerned expression. He wondered why this comment would worry her more than everything else that had transpired. He didn't know that an expression of deep relief bordering on sexual release had crossed his own face.

Spider shifted to look out the window and saw the flames. She picked out details that morphed into fire crews, vehicle lights, and people moving around trying to control the situation and prevent it from spreading. She'd been able to look at the spider up close because of connections she had with people inside the Rotterdam stadium where it had first been set-up. It had been a magnificent piece of engineering. She also knew many of the materials that made it up. Some would not be extinguished easily. A few of the materials would act like thermite when they burned and would burn until there was nothing left to fuel them. She frowned as the massive spider fell behind them. She spared the singer another look, this one closer and more searching. "You burned the spider?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "I had to. It was haunting me. Bringing me more pain. I needed to destroy it." He swallowed hard as he repeated the words silently to himself. "I sound crazy."

"Not crazy." He opened his eyes, surprised at her comment, stated in a gentle and understanding tone of voice. He started to say something, but didn't know what to say. "Really, David, not crazy. The spider became a symbol in your mind. I have no idea why people couldn't understand the beauty of this tour, the symbolism of the spider and the emotions she expressed, and how she was just a visual representation of the story you were telling through your music." His surprise deepened and he suspected he looked like a beached fish as he continued listening. "Perhaps it is true that people are dumbed down today. I know the students I see at the university are not of the same caliber as they used to be." She sighed softly and shook her head. "At one time I could depend on the students in the medical program as well as the hard sciences programs to be well prepared for their studies, you know, not in need of remedial coursework. That's no longer the case. Maybe The Glass Spider and your story required Cliff Notes."

David snorted before starting to laugh. He watched a slow smile cross the woman's face before she started to chuckle over her words. His laughter began to drift into hysterics after several minutes. He shook his head and tried to control his reaction, sharp gasps accompanied each pause between desperate, uncontrollable laughter that brought tears to his eyes. The alien sounds poured from his mouth before he hunched forward and fell into actual sobs as his emotions completely broke. Everything that had been building within his heart, mind, and soul poured out of him until his world went dark. The last thing he saw was the strange, mousy woman looking at him with understanding and compassion. Even in the darkness, he felt gentle hands gather him against a thin shoulder that was surprisingly strong.

"Will he be all right," Stephanie asked after approaching the pair again. The seat belt sign had been turned off after the plane had leveled out at cruising altitude. Shock over David Bowie's apparent breakdown had trapped her in the seat she'd belted into after moving away from the pair. Also, she felt that she'd just be in the way if she tried helping. Her brother had told her more about the female musician and knew she was more than capable of dealing with any medical emergency that might occur on the flight.

Spider looked up and shrugged. "I don't know. It's not as if I can give him a complete physical. All I can do is support him as much as possible during the flight and learn what I can by questioning him. Would it be possible to get a couple bottles of water? When he wakes up, I'd like to get some fluids into him."

"There is an in flight meal as well."

"I don't want to kill him." The woman shook her head. "The last time I ate the food on here, I was sick for days and actually wanted to die with how horrible I felt."

Stephanie laughed. "Yeah, it really is bad. I think they forget there are actual humans on these flights, not just cargo."

"I brought my own food. I can share it with him if he feels up for it." She sighed softly as she checked David's pulse and watched his breathing deepen as if he was asleep, not just passed out. "He needs to eat. Emotions can take a lot out of a person and in some instances can prevent them from eating."

"Is that why he's so skinny?" The flight attendant grimaced. "He doesn't look very healthy. Almost like he did back in the 70's." She gasped and covered her mouth. "You don't think he's using again, do you?"

"No, I don't. Did you see his show?" Stephanie nodded. "You saw how physically demanding it was."

"Ah, yeah."

"If he wasn't forcing himself to eat extra calories and making certain he never missed a meal, he'd burn through energy reserves very quickly."

"I wish I could do that." The woman shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "I barely made weight this month."

"Add more protein to your diet and less carbohydrates. It is possible to eat everything in sight and still starve to death if all you're eating is protein."

"Really?"

"Yes, it has an official description, Protein Starvation. Protein is very important for health, but it takes fat or carbohydrates or both to maintain physical weight. Fat has a higher concentration of calories, but makes you feel full faster and for a longer period of time, preventing weight gain under most circumstances. Carbs burn off quickly, causing your hunger to return, and are easily converted into glucose in the body. If an individual doesn't use those calories, the glucose is stored in the fat cells leading to weight gain."

"One of the other girls was talking about that. She'd gone vegetarian and wasn't eating any fat, or very little, or something and she gained a ton of weight. She also acted really weird and seemed to be hungry all the time. After failing to make the physical requirements, she got angry and went out for a steak dinner every night for a week. She lost a ton of weight in that week. I guess that's why." She nodded and thought about her own diet. "I'll try the protein thing. It can't hurt to try something for a week. See if it works."

"Of course." Spider shifted David from her shoulder so he laid back against the seat. "Can you recline his seat a little?" The attendant did. "I'd like to lay him on his side so he can rest a little better. Would it be possible to get a handful of blankets as well as two or three pillows?"

"Will you need help moving him? I can get the Captain."

"No, he doesn't weigh that much. I easily outweigh him. You probably do, too."

"That's scary and sad. I feel so fat."

Spider shook her head. "You're not fat. He's just that skinny and underweight."

"But, yeah, I can get those things." She glanced into the rear of the plane, as the only attendant for the flight, she had to keep track of everyone. "I think everyone's asleep back there."

"That's good. Those children were acting irritable at the airport. It's appropriate that they get some sleep during the flight." While Stephanie was gathering the requested items, Spider released David's seat belt and gave him a quick once over. She finally checked his right forearm under the charred fabric and discovered a first degree burn that had one edge that exhibited the blistering of a second degree burn. It had to have been painful, although the man hadn't show any indication of it. She reached into one pocket of her backpack for the small first aid kit she always carried. It wasn't much, but one item always hidden within it was burn ointment. She was prone to sunburn and seldom tanned, and the medicated ointment was always welcome. She opened the tube and applied it to the singer's burn before adding a protective barrier of gauze and a waterproof layer of burn wrap all held in place with surgical tape. She pulled his shirt sleeve down to cover everything and wondered if he had a different shirt in the bag Coco had provided.

"Spider," Stephanie prompted as she returned. "I had to tell the Captain what happened. He wasn't very happy and wants to speak to you after you get him situated. I'm sorry, I had to tell him."

"I know. It's okay." Spider stood, moved the separating arm rest to its vertical position, and took the pillows from the attendant. After arranging two of them on the seat and one vertically against the wall of the plane, she gathered David up, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other under both legs at the bend of his knees, lifting him in one smooth motion. She was surprised that he was actually heavier than her initial estimate, but still very light for a man of his height. After arranging him over both seats, his legs bent so his feet rested on one seat, his head nestled in the pillows on the other, she added several blankets. She brushed her hands over his torso one more time before adding a fourth blanket. She took the last blanket and wrapped it around his feet after removing his red boots. "Rest, David," Spider said quietly as she rested her hand on the man's forehead. She added silently, ' _I wonder how that lacquer in your hair will stand up to those pillows._ '

"You know where the cockpit is. I'm going to check on everyone in business class before coming back to make sure he doesn't fall off the seats."

"Thank you, Stephanie." Spider headed for the cockpit where Captain Franks waited. "Captain," she asked softly after knocking on the door.

"Come in, Spider." He nodded toward the other man in the left seat. "This is my co-pilot, Terrence Pol. This is his maiden voyage."

"That's always fun. Glad to meet you," Spider offered her hand. "You need an update on Mr. Jones's condition," she immediately offered.

"All I need to know is if he's a danger to the plane or anyone aboard."

She took a minute to think about how to answer. She hadn't given David a complete physical and his mental condition was still up in the air, but her gut reaction was that he wasn't a danger to anyone other than himself. She gave a brief evaluation of the singer's physical condition as well as the circumstances that had led to her giving him one of her tickets for the flight. "He's exhausted. The shows on this tour were extremely physically demanding and in many ways, dealing with the mental aspects of it were even more so. You're aware that the concept of the tour was not well received by critics and reviewers or even by some fans. That definitely took a lot out of Mr. Jones and his reaction tonight was not unusual in light of that. If he's a danger to anyone, it might be to himself, although I have not observed him showing signs of self-harm, he does have a burn on his arm. Also, he indicated that he burned the spider he used in his show. That was the large fire we had to detour slightly because of on take-off."

"Ah, that explains the flames."

"Yes. I'm only theorizing that the spider is the source of the burn. The two may not be connected, but without questioning Mr. Jones, I can only guess. However, I digress. By danger to himself, he shows signs of not eating properly or overexertion, or possibly both. He is no danger to the plane, the passengers, or staff."

"Is he a danger to you?"

"I don't understand the question."

The co-pilot appeared uncomfortable when the self-assured woman focused her eyes on him. "The Captain said that you took responsibility for him. You've been watching over him like a hawk. Could he strike out at you?"

"I do not believe so. If he would, I am quite capable of putting him on the floor and restraining him. My educational background is extremely varied, including a medical degree. I have performed psychiatric rotations and am well qualified to prevent further aggressive actions."

"I thought you were a musician," the captain gasped out, "you're a doctor?"

"Yes, several times over and not just a medical doctor. I'm basically an over-educated nerd." Spider smiled. She loved that description of herself. "I enjoy music and am good at it. I also make far more money as a musician than I would as a doctor."

"And here, I've only talked music with you," the captain mumbled.

"I don't mind. I love talking about music and your musical tastes are almost as varied as my own. That's something I seldom encounter, so I really enjoy our conversations." Spider smiled widely, a smile of complete happiness and contentment. "If I think he could be a danger in any way, I will report it. I'm well aware of flight rules," she was cut off when the captain interrupted with ' _not enough to follow them during take off_ '. She shook her head, but not in irritation. "My interaction with Mr. Jones was concerning enough that the possibility of injury, physical or mental, of him took precedence. I know the flight rules; I also know the conditions under which they may and should be broken. I can write up an incident report, if you require one. I have my licensing documentation with me."

"What? You're a pilot?"

"I hate flying commercial. Within the United States and most contiguous countries in and around Europe, I fly my own jets and planes. I really should invest in something big enough to circumnavigate the globe, so I can fly here as well. I just haven't gotten around to it yet." She paused a moment and chuckled. "I suppose my Leer could do the job, it's just so expensive to fuel up and has serious cargo limitations. Sometimes I fly in here with several hundred pounds of instruments and many times that in electronics and other gear."

"A Leer?"

"I bought it used. But, it's still in great shape and is a pleasure to fly. It's what I'll use to hop over to Switzerland once we reach London. I have a recording session in Montreux starting on the third of December."

"I went into the wrong job," the co-pilot said with an head shake.

"Not necessarily. I've been very lucky in my career. I've also made some extremely smart investments over the decades. Not all my net worth has come from music."

"Still."

"It's never too late to make a career change." Her comment was accompanied by a gentle smile. "Or, begin making some smart investments that will act as passive income."

"Don't tempt me." He grinned but shook his head. "Maybe, if I could sing or play any instrument, it could be possible. I can't even carry a tune in a bucket that has a lid, a lock, and every other safety device in existence. Heck, I don't even like music that much. It doesn't make sense to my brain."

The trio shared a brief chuckle over the visual. "Do you need additional information? An incident report?"

"No, and no. Just keep me updated, please."

"I will," Spider promised. She was aware of flight rules and knew because of her knowledge that she'd be held to a higher standard, but she was confident that David would be okay. She had promised to keep him safe and protect him. Even with everything that had passed, she was confident that it was a promise she could still keep. She returned to the first class compartment and checked the sleeping singer. His pulse and respiration were well within normal ranges for his age bracket and he appeared to be deeply asleep. She brushed her fingers along the edge of his face.

"He hasn't moved," Stephanie observed unnecessarily. "Is the Captain angry?"

"No, I'll keep him updated, though." Spider shifted her guitars forward one row and settled into the seat directly across the aisle from David. "For now, I think I'll get some rest. I've been working for the last two days. I should hear him if he moves, but if I fail to, wake me immediately." She debated about shifting David around so he slept against her, guaranteeing that any change in him would wake her, but she was afraid that his current rest would be interrupted. She could see how much he needed it. His mental confusion could be partially caused, and definitely exacerbated, by exhaustion. And, he was definitely exhausted; his physical condition screamed it. She sat down and connected the seat belt around her. She had a tendency to fall out of her seat and curl up on the floor during these flights, but she didn't want to struggle to get up if David woke before her. She might have to move quickly and that was impossible for her if she was on the floor. Within minutes she was deeply asleep, the hum of the plane's engines and air circulation system a gentle melody that was reminiscent of static from televisions in the sixties after a station went off the air.

~~~~~

"What?" The woman awoke with a start. She glanced around searching for the sound that had disturbed her rest. "Captain Franks," she said as the pilot appeared.

"Spider," he paused and glanced toward the rear of the plane, "can you come into the cockpit?"

"Of course." She disconnected her seat belt and quickly checked over the still sleeping singer.

"Stephanie will watch him." The pilot nodded to the flight attendant before turning and reentering the cockpit, closing the door behind him. "Sit," he ordered, waving toward the co-pilot's seat.

"Captain Franks," the woman started, "where's Mr. Pol?"

"Down below."

Spider waited for additional information and when none appeared forthcoming, she looked over the aircraft's controls. For the first time, she realized very little of the electronics were working. "Captain."

"My first name is William. Let's drop the formalities." He'd seen where her eyes had traveled and if what the woman had stated earlier, about being a pilot was true and he suspected it was based on what he'd learned during their refueling, she was already aware that they were in trouble. He hoped she had some idea how to deal with it, because frankly, he hadn't experienced nor thought about this particular scenario. Not even in a simulator. "What do you see?"

"Radar is out. Minimal autopilot. It appears that most of the aircraft control systems have either failed or are near failure. What is our current position?" She paused a moment before shaking her head. The man didn't have to respond, his expression was enough. "We've already landed and refueled?" The answering nod gave her a better idea of their position. "How long have we been in the air since taking back off?"

"Almost eight hours."

Spider scoffed. They should have already been in London on the tarmac. "I really was tired."

The pilot chuckled at that. "Yeah, you were snoring like a chain saw. I tried waking you a few hours ago, but you wouldn't budge, just grunted and snuggled into your seat more.

The woman blushed slightly before nodding. That definitely sounded like her. "When did the problems begin? Or more like when were they noticed?" She thought back to waking up and realized what had disturbed her: the engines were skipping notes as they whined. Their sound was more reminiscent of a heavy truck's brakes struggling to control its speed when descending an extremely steep grade. The thumps interspersed with cries as metal scraped metal as gravity pulled it to ever increasing speeds.

"The later," the captain admitted, "I've been trying to determine our position for several hours. Ever since we left American airspace. We should have begun a slight shift toward the northeast, but initially we veered sharply south. About an hour of fighting with mostly dead controls, our flight path triggered a five thousand foot climb while completing three and a half turns. We're going almost due north right now. The fight path has shifted several times, east, west, south, in the intervening three hours." He glanced over the flight controls again. "I did manage to decrease our altitude to just under ten thousand feet, but I've been unable to adjust direction." He shook his head and returned his gaze to the woman. "Even if I could, I'm not even sure which way to go."

"What's Mr. Pol attempting to do down below?"

"He used to be a fight mechanic in the military. He's trying to reset the computers so we can utilize manual control."

"Smart. Is he having any luck?"

"Nope," the co-pilot said from the doorway. Neither the captain nor Spider had heard him enter. "Everything's froze. Completely frozen. I'm wondering if I should just unplug the system entirely."

"Before that, let me try something," Spider said as she turned to the secondary controls. "Belt yourselves in and turn on the seat belt sign." She'd never tried a stall in such a large aircraft outside of a simulator, but it might give them manual control. "I'm going to attempt a stall. Is the cargo still fully secured? Could one of you belt in Mr. Jones? I'll hold off until you return."

"Have you performed stalls?" The pilot looked at the woman from the corner of his eye. Her complete calm was disconcerting.

"Yeah. One of my planes is an old Stearman that was originally a trainer during World War II. I've done some crazy shit in that plane. If you're good enough, I believe there is nothing a Stearman can't do." She answered without actually looking at the captain. She was checking over the various controls of the massive Boeing 747.

"Have you ever flown a 747?"

"Once. In training. I'm more familiar with the Douglas line."

"Gods." The captain turned to look the few functional readouts. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Mostly. What do we have to lose? Look at the fuel." She nodded toward the display, before tapping it. It seemed ironic that it was one gauge that was still working. "We're going to run out of fuel within thirty minutes. Probably sooner."

"He's belted in. I wasn't sure he was alive at first. He didn't wake up or anything."

"That's understandable. He's exhausted." She glanced toward the two pilots. "Well, it's now or never."

"You actually enjoy playing with the edges."

Spider nodded at Captain Franks's observation. She drew back on the yoke. When she didn't feel a response from the air frame, she applied judicious braking via foot pedals. "Reinforce me," she ordered calmly, quickly feeling a slight response as the captain added his own application of physical force to the yoke and pedals. There was a shift in the pitch of the engines before the plane nosed over instead of climbing. "Reverse controls." The plane leveled off before the nose came up and the altimeter climbed several hundred feet.

"Damn," Captain Franks groaned as he had to release the yoke. He'd been fighting with the aircraft for hours and was physically exhausted. His arms shook with the effort. "What the hell was that?"

"Not sure," Spider answered as she eased off the yoke and pedals. "I've never even read about something like that. It's as if the computer was reprogrammed to change the aircraft's responses. And, why in the hell are these controls so stiff." She frowned at the aircraft's controls.

"They've been getting worse by the hour." The pilot scoffed. "Also, the controls don't always act the same. Sometimes they work correctly, sometimes they work in reverse. There was even one time when they didn't respond at all; and worse, one time they weren't correct or in reverse, pulling back caused the plane to bank right. Pushing made it bank left. Nothing seems predictable."

The woman shook her head. "I think we're going to have to bail."

"Are you nuts?" The co-pilot almost screamed.

"No. We either get out while we can still position the jet for a safe exit or we risk dropping out of the sky when the fuel runs out. These controls are not going to allow for a glide to achieve a water landing. Even if we reset the computer, there is no guarantee that it will give us back control. Also, we have basically no fuel. There is no land in sight; any direction we would turn would require more than that to reach a safe landing zone. Water landings are notoriously difficult. I've only successful made one in something this size and that was in a simulator with no disruptions. The Stearman, no problem. I can land that on a tack, proverbially speaking."

"Damn, I hoped you'd have another conclusion. One landing, out of how many?"

"More than one hundred. I didn't want to give up until I'd made at least one, but I haven't had a chance to try again. I don't have another conclusion. However, I am attempting to be realistic. We have some time to prepare. You have emergency equipment on board?"

"Yes. We make regular trips over water, so we have at least one raft and we have to meet regulations for any country we fly into. Some of those require full medical kits, emergency medications, and life jackets."

"There are no life jackets," Mr. Pol stated. "No country requires them at this time and the seat cushions are viewed as providing enough flotation."

"We'll need to get the plane under two hundred feet and as level as possible. It's a survivable jump even without a chute."

"You are crazy." The co-pilot shook his head and a shiver ran through him. "Look out there! That water has white caps and looks freezing."

"Near the horizon, there are small icebergs, too. Would you prefer just crashing and having no chance of survival? I can think of better ways to die." Spider ran her fingers through her hair, pushing the neat style out of place. "The big problem will be the controls. We have to reach a safe altitude and somehow figure out a way to trigger a climb without anyone being at the controls. We can't trust the computer. Or," her voice fell to silence as she pulled back on the yoke and the plane nosed over again. "Hmm."

"What are you thinking?"

"It's easier to nose over the plane. Lowering altitude won't be that much trouble. If we have to, we could," she enforced that word, "jump with the jet at level without the climb if we can't figure out a solution."

"Would you jump from the front exit? In front of the engines?"

"I'd rather jump from the back. There would be no chance of being sucked into them, but the rear hatch opens out which would risk us being caught between the door and fuselage. Either way, there is risk." She disconnected her seat belt and turned away from the controls. "It's your decision, Captain Franks."

"You've just voiced what I've been thinking for some time. I just wasn't sure about survivable jump altitudes. That was never my strong suit."

"Give me time to wake Mr. Jones and prepare him for what's coming. The two of you determine what is still working and what isn't. I'm great with acrobatic calculations for my own planes. This thing would be like trying to do stunts in a military tank, impossible, but some of that knowledge might be helpful." The trio fell silent as the airplane's frame seemed to cry out, a metallic grinding that sounded like a warning. "We might not have time for the fuel to run out." She shivered when she realized that cry was the sound that had awakened her, not the tempo change of the engines. The air frame must have shifted during one of the computer's weird gyrations. "See what's still functional and see about emergency supplies."

"Okay," the two men said together.

"Yeah," she sighed as she exited the cockpit and approached first class seating. She shook her head as Stephanie opened her mouth to ask a question. "Go forward and be briefed by the captain." As the other woman left, she looked over the still slumbering singer. She was surprised to realize the co-pilot had seat belted him in without lifting him into a seated position. He was still curled on his side, softly snoring, in a deep sleep. She hated waking him, but it had to be done. "David," she whispered before brushing her fingers over his shoulder. She shook him slightly as a short snort escaped his nose and he shifted enough to shove her hand away. "You need to wake up."

"No, go way. Tired."

"David, you have to wake up. It's important." Her voice held a hint of command. She fell silent as another cry escaped the air frame. "David." She grasped his shoulders with one hand and shifted his legs so his feet dropped to the floor. When he started to protest again and fight against her manipulations, she pressed him against the back of the seat and placed her hands on either side of his face. "David, please, try to listen."

The mismatched blue eyes finally opened and he looked at the woman's face. For the first time, she appeared less than completely in control and her gaze was icy, but he didn't think she was angry at him. "Uh," he started as he searched his mind for her name, "Melanie."

"Yes." Suddenly her expression warmed and the iciness disappeared. "David, I need you to listen to me." He nodded. "What I have to say is not going to be comforting." She paused as Stephanie moved past her to the rear of the plane, barely hiding her panic. "David," the rest of her words were cut off when the sound of metal ripping screamed through the air. Spider grabbed David's head and pulled him towards her body, hunching over him as she grabbed the armrest less than a second before the air seemed to disappear from around them. Her voice was muffled by David's hair as she pulled him against her chest, not even sure what she could do to protect him. Her face contorted in agony as pieces of the plane slammed into her back and her breath was released in a cry that cut off as something slammed into her legs and she almost lost her footing.

David reached up and grabbed at the woman's arm, clawing at her as his own screams were trapped by his panic. Everything else that had transpired over the last hours, days, and months were forgotten as sheer terror overtook his mind. He had no idea how much time had passed before he became aware that the air had stilled somewhat and his breath collected in clouds of vapor as the cold closed in. He turned his head upward to try to look at the woman's face. He had her right arm tightly grasped in his own hands and could feel her silent gasps as she wavered above him. A moment later and she collapsed to her knees. Her body shook as she knelt beside him, her face pressed against his thigh as she struggled to breath. "Oh, no," he managed to gasp out. He disentangled his right arm from under her and reached for her neck; there was blood collecting there and there were numerous pieces of metal, glass, and other materials that punctured at least her coat and probably her body if the shiny blood was any indication. In an effort to look away from the injured woman and ward off the feeling of passing out, he turned his head to the right and looked into open sky. There was an horizon of water and a rapidly darkening edge of space, where the wall of the plane should have been.

"David," Spider whispered as she turned her face toward his body. She couldn't move much beyond that. Her head hurt and her neck felt like a ten ton weight was pulling her body down and it hurt too much to even open her eyes.

"What?"

She was shocked to receive an answer from the singer and even more so that his voice sounded focused and without panic. "How bad is my back?"

"Bad. You're bleeding and um, you've been stabbed."

It took a moment for her to process his words and make sense of them.

"The plane's falling apart."

She had to laugh at that evaluation and immediately regretting the action because it made everything hurt more. "Do you think? Or do you know?" She had to be a smart ass.

"Uh, I think I know." The pair shared a bit of gallows humor over the understatement of the century. "Melanie," David started as he brushed his hand over the woman's shoulder, "god this is so inappropriate."

The singer's strained voice forced Spider's eyes open and she realized exactly how her face was positioned. "I'm sorry." She shifted so the side of her head rested on his knee before attempting to support herself. Her hands dropped to the floor and she shifted back to sit on her heels. Her limited movement caused her to whimper and her breath to fade to gasps.

"No, I'm sorry." David reached down and adjusted his clothes to hide his involuntary reaction to a woman being that close. He was embarrassed by his reaction in such an inappropriate situation.

"David," Spider said quietly as she reached up and touched his arm near the elbow. "It's okay. It's a normal reaction under stress."

"Still." The singer glanced away. He didn't want to look at the woman or out of the fractured airplane.

"I need to get this coat off."

"Won't that hurt?"

Spider looked at him, somewhat confused by the question. "Anything I do is going to hurt; breathing hurts; moving a single muscle hurts. Hopefully, everything will be pulled out in a single painful movement."

"If it isn't?" David felt guilty for the question when Spider's face closed off and she looked away. "Can I help?"

"I'm going to turn partially away from you and shift my arms back and to my sides. Don't give me a warning, just yank the coat straight down." She paused a moment before she started to put her words into motion. "Be careful not to cut yourself on any of the pieces. It's going to take some significant force. I think some of these pieces are in pretty deep." The pain was starting to make her feel light-headed and she hoped she didn't pass out. "I'm going to turn now. Be careful of yourself." She turned enough that she saw the damage the plane had suffered for the first time. "Oh, my gods." She screamed as the coat was removed from her without warning and without hesitation.

"I'm sorry; I'm sorry," David kept repeating as the woman fell forward, burying her face against the floor of the cabin. He removed his seat belt and knelt beside her, gently touching her shoulder and neck, trying to ignore the blood as well as his own nausea and dizziness. "I'm sorry," he said again as he pulled her up and rested her against his chest. He could feel her shaking and struggling to bring her breathing under control. He slowly became aware of her whispers of 'thank you' and 'don't be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for.' He could only shake his head, brushing his chin against her hair.

"David?" The woman pulled away from his gentle grasp. Again sitting on her heels, she looked at his face. His mismatched eyes were filled with panic, but he projected a calmer exterior than she'd seen out him to this point. She looked again at where she'd been sitting earlier in the flight. If she'd returned to her seat instead of going to him, she'd be dead as the fractured seat back attested to. "Thank you." She looked back at his face. "Sit up in your seat." She struggled to her own feet before moving past him to take the window seat.

"Are we going to die?"

She thought about the question for a moment before deciding to answer it as truthfully as possible. "We're all going to die eventually, but we're not going to die right now." The singer's expression said that he thought she was lying, but held a hint of hope. "If everything works out, we can survive this." She looked past David as the engines started to die on the side of the plane that had blown out, or in, as the case may be. As they fell silent, she turned slightly toward the window behind her and was relieved to hear those engines still struggling.

"How?" He knew he was holding himself together by a shoestring and he could feel panic welling up from the bottom of his soul, but he wanted to live. He remembered a song from early in his career where he cried out that he wanted to live. One take he'd done with a small group of friends had never been recorded; he wished it had been. They'd sung the song shortly after hearing about the death of a classmate and he'd ended up almost screaming that he wanted to live; it felt so visceral. The words were torn from his lips and pounded into his head and by the time the song ended, the group was breathless and all were crying. The loss combined with their own verbalized wish had also reminded them of their own mortality and that everything eventually ended.

Spider waited as various emotions raced over David's face. She had no idea what he was thinking or remembering, but what ever it was, appeared important in allowing him to face what was ahead of him. His blue eyes captured hers and a calm expression overtook him. His hands were still and his entire countenance was hyper-focused. "We're going to jump," she said calmly so she could judge his reaction. The pair of blond eyebrows that bounced into his hairline almost made her laugh.

"Jump," he reiterated.

"Yes, we're going to lower the plane to a safe altitude and jump."

"Well, the jump won't kill us, neither will the fall. The landing might." His words felt surprisingly calm as he voiced them.

"Not if we do things correctly. I'm the only one aboard with experience with free jumps into bodies of water. I'll do the most dangerous jump with emergency equipment connected to me. The weight of those items hold the greatest risk of injury or failure. You, Stephanie," she jerked her head up as she remembered the woman moving past her right before the plane decided it wanted to lose some weight. She shook her head at the inappropriate description and hoped she didn't fall into hysterics like David had earlier. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, bringing herself under control. "I need to check on Stephanie and the rest of the plane." She hadn't heard or seen anything from the other occupants of the plane since the blow in. She stood and stepped into the aisle, before groaning and turning her head away.

"Melanie," David asked quietly before glancing around the back of his seat and covering his mouth. The attendant had been decapitated by flying debris. He felt fear grab him as the woman took one of his blankets and covered the woman's body. She moved away to look into the rear of the jet. She'd no sooner looked around the curtain that she let it fall back and returned to her seat. He waited for her to say something, anything. Several minutes passed before he touched her arm, jerking her eyes to his own. "Melanie? What is it?"

"I don't know how the plane is still in the air. The entire rear of the plane is blown out. Both sides. No one could have survived that." She swallowed hard. "We will survive though. You need to know what to do. We jump once the plane reaches altitude. The important part of the landing will be body position. Are you familiar with the basic foot and leg positions of ballet?" She suspected he was since he was such an amazing dancer. His nod brought a smile to her face. "You know what en pointe is, right?"

"Uh, yes. It's impossible."

"Not impossible, but it is painful, even when done correctly with the proper shoes." She reinforced her next words with her hands indicating how their feet, legs, arms and overall body would need to be positioned. "The moment you're in the air, just assume the proper position for the body. You'll cross your arms over your chest, holding a seat cushion and threading your arms through your carry on bag."

"I didn't bring it." David's head pulled back as he realized how single-minded his actions had been earlier.

"Ms. Schwab brought it. It's under the seat in front of you." She nodded toward it. "But, stay focused. You'll want your body as straight as possible, leaning back slightly so you are not perfectly vertical. Elbows, wrists, hands need to be held as close to the body as possible and relax your shoulders down as far as you can as long as it's still comfortable. Hitting the water will cause you to tense up. You must keep your legs together, knees, thighs, calves, as best as you can. You need to place your feet en pointe as well. By streamlining your body position, you'll lessen the impact as you enter the water. If we can find your boots, you need to put them on. They will help protect your feet on landing. You should be able to draw a line from the tips of your toes, through the bones of your feet, your ankles, knees, all the way to your hips. Do not pike your body at the hips, that can allow damage to your back, abdomen, torso, and even your face and head. Your legs will act as shock absorbers at the moment of impact." She paused and waited for him to process the instructions before standing and moving into the aisle. This is how your body should be positioned. She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing her limbs against her body tightly. Spider pointed her toes and feet as far as she could with the heavy military boots she wore and shifted onto the points of the steel protective toes. For a moment, she was able to achieve the proper alignment. "It's easier in free fall," she added as she rolled back to the balls of her feet.

"I think I can do that." David remembered one time when he was practicing with Melissa and he'd watched her perform the routine she would do for the show and he'd just shaken his head over her toe work. She'd set him up with a pair of pointe shoes the next day; she'd bought them at the dance school where she'd studied for years. It had taken him several tries just to walk comfortably in them. She'd showed him the basic positions for ballet and they'd shared a laugh at how awkward he'd appeared. He certainly hadn't felt like his usual graceful self as he'd almost fallen over several times. Then she hopped onto her toes and proceeded to balance gracefully on them as she danced around him while he stood watching her. He remembered when she said, 'now you try it,' and he just shook his head. After she cajoled him and continued dancing around, he decided to try. He managed to point his feet but couldn't find a sense of balance. She reached out and supported him so he could try again. He succeed in achieving en pointe for less than a second before almost breaking his ankles as he fell to his knees. He'd sat on the hard wood for several minutes as he thought about the athleticism Melissa's routine required.

"David?" He glanced up at the woman. "Memories?"

"Yes."

"Pleasant ones?" He smiled slightly as he thought about the relationship that had grown out of that experience. Although, in one part of his mind, he also wondered about it. He had almost nothing in common with the much younger woman and in many ways, he felt more like a father to her, instead of a boyfriend, or fiancee. "Mostly pleasant?"

"Yes, mostly pleasant." He wasn't willing to admit more than that, even to himself.

"I'm going to see if the captain has an update for us. We need to get the plane to a lower altitude before we can safely attempt anything."

"Okay." David watched the woman move forward and enter the cockpit before thinking about why they were able to breathe. Weren't planes pressurized so they could breathe? The air should be too thin. He looked out and realized the water looked very close. "Maybe we're lower than we normally would be?" For the first time, he glanced at the seat the woman had vacated and was disturbed by the amount of blood covering it. He shivered slightly when he thought about how much blood the woman was losing, then focused on everything she'd told him.

"Captain Franks?" Spider knocked on the cockpit door before entering. "Damn," she cursed as she looked over the damage the small room had sustained. The two pilots were still alive but were desperately trying to keep the plane under some semblance of control.

"Spider, I don't think this is going to work."

She recognized that both men had sustained heavy injuries and were losing blood. "We're still too high. We're at least 1000 feet up. This isn't survivable." She glanced around and didn't see any of the emergency gear they were going to gather.

The captain saw her eyes travel around the cockpit and guessed at what she was looking for. "Everything is in the forward compartment. There's a cabinet painted security orange. The raft or rafts should be at the bottom. The first two shelves up will have the medical kits, next will be the one for the medicine. The top two shelves are empty boxes that can be filled with supplies taken from the plane's stores. Fill them with blankets, pillows, food, water, alcohol, whatever."

"And, you?"

"I'm going down with the plane. My back is broken; I'm losing blood. I know I'm not going to survive this. Even if I jumped, I wouldn't be able to live long enough to be rescued." He watched as she glanced toward the co-pilot who hadn't said a word since she entered. "His eardrums blew out. He can't hear. His sight is damaged and he can barely see. The blast caused damage to his chest and arms, but he can still work the pedals. Get everything together and tell us when you're ready. We'll get the plane to a safe altitude and when I see you jump, we'll pull the nose up." He paused a moment before glancing toward the rear of the plane. "What's left? How much damage?"

Spider shook her head. "I'll get everyone ready." The captain had suffered enough; he didn't need to know how much had already been lost. "I'll keep the survivors alive until rescue." She saw understanding flash through the man's eyes. He knew what she wasn't saying, but accepted the offer of comfort in the spirit she'd offered it. "Thank you." She quickly entered the compartment he'd indicated and was relieved when everything was where it was supposed to be. The medical kits were much more significant than she'd expected and she hoped they were as well stocked as they were large. She didn't waste time searching through them, just guaranteed they were closed properly and the security latches were firmly connected. The case of medicine was actually marked 'pharmacy' and weighed so much she could barely lift it to move it to the floor. That was when she realized she was still bleeding; she wondered if it was that heavy or if she'd lost that much blood.

She grabbed the two top cases down and opened them. Neither had been locked or had their security latches engaged. They were empty, huge, and surprisingly roomy. She looked around the space, it also housed the first class kitchenette, various supply closets, and a small butler's pantry. She piled blankets and pillows in the bottoms of each case before adding every bottle of water she could find. Tiny bottles of alcohol were stuffed into spaces too small for much else; they wouldn't do for drinking, but they could be used to clean injuries, start a fire, and even flavor food. In the top portion of the cases, she stuffed toilet paper and hand towels as well as several actual towels she found tucked into a corner of one supply closet. The plane lurched and she heard the captain tell her to hurry. She didn't spare the time to yell out to him, just searched through the butler's pantry. Several cans of meat, one of chicken soup, another of canned corn, were tossed into the cases as were the seven bags of Halloween candy. She silently wondered what Halloween they'd been manufactured for as she closed the cases and engaged the security latches.

Next, she searched around for something to tie the various cases together with. They were built in such a way that they would float, but she wanted to control their decent and not lose them once they hit the water. Finally she spied some lose wiring and started ripping it out of the aircraft's wall until she had enough to thread through the five cases and the bag containing the raft, plus several feet extra, before using one of the kitchen knives to cut it off. She quickly moved the cases into the first class area near the blown out wall and after tying the wire securely to the bag with the raft, she threaded it through the handles and left the other end lose to tie around her own waist. She glanced toward David who appeared deep in thought as his body tensed and relaxed, before his toes again pointed. He was mentally preparing to complete the jump, she realized after watching him cycle through everything again. She disconnected her guitars from their seats and bungee corded them together. The cases they were housed in were heavy, industrial grade custom pieces that were designed to survive high impacts and would float in water and even had a high burn point, protecting the guitars inside from brief, direct contact with fire. She returned to the cockpit and told Captain Franks that she had everything ready. She would need a few minutes to attach the rope and grab her bag and guitars. "Give me five minutes, then take us down." Her breath escaped in a gasp that sounded like a sob. She shook her head and leaned down to hug him. "Thank you, William," using his name for the first time. "I've been honored to get to fly with you, my friend. You will never be forgotten."

"Thank you. Now, go." He returned his attention to the destroyed controls. He didn't want her to see his own tears.

Spider quickly returned to first class and grabbed her backpack from where it had been stowed. She then turned her attention to David. His mismatched eyes were open and studying her. "It's time, David." He glanced toward the cockpit as well as toward the rear of the plane. She shook her head before adding, "it's only the two of us. I need to connect myself to the gear, then I'll exit the plane. You must be right behind me. Are you going to be able to do this?"

"I think so." He swallowed hard and rubbed at his face. "Help me."

"Okay. Stand up." She steadied him once he reached his feet. He was wearing his boots she realized. He had found them and put them on. Once Spider was certain he was comfortable standing, she grabbed his seat cushion and helped him thread his arms through the straps, then handed him his carry on, performing a similar exercise. "Follow me." She grabbed the wire and threaded it through the fixed handles on the guitar cases before tying it around her waist. She looked at the singer and smiled at him. "Once I jump, count to three and follow me."

"Okay. Spider," he cried out as she kicked the raft and the heaviest case, the pharmacy one, out of the fractured side of the airplane. The weight was enough to yank everything else out with it and she pushed out as the wire tightened around her waist, maintaining her own center of gravity and control over her body. "Well shit." He said immediately before the world exploded around him.

Spider hit the water within seconds of leaving the plane and realized Captain Franks had gotten them far lower in altitude than she'd anticipated. If David didn't leave the plane already in position, he wouldn't have time to get into it. The wire around her waist cut into her as she was yanked toward the surface, she gasped for a breath the moment her face hit the air simultaneous to the plane ripping itself apart. "David!" She couldn't even hear her own cry as her ears refused to process any sound. The water was icy, the surface had actual ice crystals forming on it. Her body was immediately chilled to the bone, but her mind was trying to process everything she saw. "David," she whispered as one afterimage forced itself to the fore: a human-shaped form exiting the plane as it broke apart. She shivered for a reason other than the water.

She pulled the bag with the raft over to her and untied the wire before pulling the cord to inflate it. Once the massive raft was open, she understood why there had only been one in the cabinet. The thing was large enough to hold several dozen people as well as their luggage, emergency supplies, and almost anything else they could image tossing in. The first things she added were the medical supplies before struggling to force the pharmacy case over the side. One thing about the cold water, it had stopped her pain instantly. She knew the salt water would help clean the injuries and hoped it would be enough to prevent an infection. The two cases she'd packed went in next, then her two guitars. Her backpack was the last item added, then she tied the wire to the raft and started paddling toward the wreckage of the plane, hoping that maybe she'd find David there and that he'd still be alive. Not for the first time, she really wished she'd learned how to swim properly. A doggy paddle was not the most effective way of cutting through the water of the ocean.

As she reached pieces of luggage or transport cases from the cargo hold, she tossed them into the raft. There was plenty of room in the massive beast and the only other person who might still be alive was David. She just hoped some of the heavy baggage would contain items that would be helpful and that everything else at least wouldn't be cases of wasted effort. She sighed when she found a number of her guitars and added them to the raft. She'd been traveling with twelve of them; so far, seven of them had been forced into the raft along with her own three bags of checked luggage. Over the next fifteen minutes, she periodically called out David's name and waited a minute for a reply before resuming her doggy paddle through the wreckage. The sun was almost set and the night was gathering gloom. A glance toward the sky revealed that there was heavy cloud cover. She needed to find David and get him into the raft before she ran out of light. He'd never survive the night in this cold water. She had doubts that she could survive. She reached a point were it appeared the wreckage was starting to spread out due to a clear cross current. The two sections were being drawn in opposing directions. She pulled herself up on the edge of the raft after turning it so she wouldn't run the risk of overturning it. She used the slightly higher position to look around the wreckage. She saw the rest of her guitars floating about twenty-five feet away from her and blond hair just beyond them. "David," she whispered as she dropped into the water again and started paddling in that direction. She grabbed the guitars and threw them roughly into the raft. The cases would keep their contents safe. Several additional cargo cases followed them. She struck out with tired arms trying to reach where she thought she'd seen the singer. As her strength was almost gone, she saw the blond hair on the back of a head and gave one more burst of effort, finally reaching him.

Spider was terrified of what she might find. He could be dead and only floating because of the seat cushion, but she had to find out. She touched his back and turned him around in the water. "Oh, David," she cried out when she saw his face. The next several minutes were consumed by her visual examination of the severely injured man. She could already tell his face had sustained numerous fractures and the presence of pieces of metal showed they'd probably been caused by the airplane breaking up, not contact with the water. Blood streamed from his nose and his eyes were already beginning to be surrounded by bruises. His jaw appeared mostly undamaged, although there was bruising starting on the right side of his jaw. Lower, he was supported by his right arm, still threaded through the cushion and his carry-on. His left arm dangled into the water and the shoulder was barely visible. Looking back at the right shoulder, she could see it was badly damaged with a visible distortion in both shape and angle. She used her legs to tread water as she checked his pulse and ran her hands up his arm to the shoulder. Spider was relieved when it felt dislocated not fractured. She'd need significantly better light to make a proper evaluation. So far, she hadn't found any additional bleeding and she didn't actually smell blood. She didn't think about the possibility that she just couldn't smell anything because of damage she had sustained.

David moaned as he struggled to open his eyes. "Ah," he cried out as pain coursed through him. Not mental pain, that was pushed away by the physical agony. Tears fell from his eyes even as he fought against them. He gradually became aware of a gentle voice, colored by concern, gently caressing his heart and soul. He couldn't understand the words and realized that right now, the actual words spoken didn't matter. They were a lifeline that he had to grab hold of if he wanted to live and his heart cried out that, yes, he did want to live. He opened his right hand and immediately felt someone take hold of it, a gentle grip closing around him, palm to palm before fingers brushed over the side of his face. "Help."

"I will."

' _Melanie,_ ' his mind offered. "Melanie, help me."

"I'm here, David." Her hands continued running over the singer's shoulders. The left shoulder was intact and as she ran fingers down his spine, he shifted slightly to move his legs. He was testing out his own body's condition. She looked into his eyes, the growing darkness made it difficult, but she could see his right eye reacting normally, dilating to take in more of what little light was available but constricting to protect against the glare of the last rays of reflected sunlight. She kept her touch light as she checked his chest and abdomen before testing the stability of his pelvic girdle. "I need to check your legs. I'll be right back." She drew in a deep breath before allowing herself to sink underwater. She ran her hands along each thigh, then tested each knee, and finishing by running over his lower legs. When she met the fractures of each tib/fib, she heard a corresponding cry from David that carried even to her below water. His ankles seemed stable and gave a silent thank you to the boots that had protected his lower-most extremities. As she resurfaced, she gasped in air and silently tallied the obvious injuries the man had suffered. "David, I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It's okay," he whispered. "Pain all over." He caught his words and tried expressing himself more eloquently. "I have pain all over, not just my legs." His eyes started to fall shut as his strength waned. Even his periodic sobbing was weakening.

Spider was thankful that the icy water had numbed her body. She had pain, but it was distant and not as intense as earlier. She spared a thought that she should be concerned about that. "David, I need to get you into the raft." She felt bad when his eyes opened again, wide with fear of the pain he would face. "I'm going to lift you in. I need you to fall to your left side. Your right shoulder is badly injured and laying on it will cause additional injury. I'm going to make sure there is an open area in the raft." She quickly pulled herself onto the side and was relieved there was a large, clear area just above their position. "There's plenty of room. I'll go under and lift you from your thighs and buttocks. Just relax your body and act like you're going to sit on my arm. As I resurface, I'll push you up, all you have to do is shift your weight forward to fall into the raft. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He looked nervous but was looking forward to being out of the freezing water, although the air felt very cold, too.

"Okay, ready," Spider dropped below the surface of the water before he could say a word.

A few seconds later, he felt her arms wrap around his thighs and force from below pushing him up until his chest was even with the top of the raft's edge. He grabbed the rope around it and pulled, screaming at the pain that flowed through his right arm and shoulder at the effort, before allowing himself to fall forward until his upper body was flopped on his left side. He tried moving more, at least to draw his legs into the raft, but found he lacked the ability. He could feel pain, just couldn't move. A few seconds later, he felt the raft shift as the woman climbed in. She pulled his legs into the raft and carefully arranged his body into a more natural position. "Thank you," he whispered as she brushed her fingers through his now limp, but sticky, hair.

"You're welcome. I should get you out of those wet clothes, but I have nothing to put on you." She did disentangle his arm from the seat cushion and his carry on. The sun had set fully and the darkness was almost complete. Only a few stars broke through the cloud cover and the light of the moon, which would have been very welcome, was so diffused as to be useless.

"So cold," David said as his teeth started chattering. He started shivering right after that, drawing cries each time his legs or arms shifted. When he heard the woman rummage through everything in the raft, he struggled to open his eyes. He could make out movement, barely, but recognized the sharp sound of discovery when she found what she had been searching for. He thought he saw something large and dark be lifted out of a case of some sort. Locks were re-engaged and the raft shifted as she moved around. She laid down behind him and pulled him against her body. She was already radiating heat as she shivered, fighting off the icy chill from the water and now the combination of air and wind. The large, dark something revealed itself as a heavy blanket that smelled like the leather from an old guitar case. "Thank you," he whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

"You're welcome. Sleep well, David." Spider wrapped her arms around him more tightly. His shivers ceased shortly after he'd fallen asleep, her own rest was longer in coming. Her mind raced through various scenarios they may face. She could only hope that they could find land and that it would be populated. Her last thought was that maybe the current they were in was heading south and even if the land wasn't populated, at least it would be warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some information on the plane's physical condition before it broke up. I ran the information by three retired engineers who specialized in reconstructing plane crashes and tested tolerances for aircraft safety. All three said the descriptions of the air frame destruction were accurate, however the plane would not remain in the air as long as it does in the story. I did take some liberties with the time.
> 
> I know from aircraft simulators, the computer can be programmed to do every possible crazy thing in the book. For those who have seen Space Cowboys with the simulator scene where everything, including the kitchen sink, is thrown at the flying brick also known as the space shuttle, while the circumstances are nearly impossible in real life, utilizing computer manipulation, it could be in the realm of possibilities.
> 
> Next, the jump tolerances detailed in the story are absolutely on the money. I've performed some absolutely crazy jumps, including "dead man" jumps into water from altitude without chutes. A 200 foot fall into the ocean is possible without injury if the person is in the proper body position. It's survivable, with serious injuries, if the individual is not. However, the jump detailed in this chapter would have been from around 90-100 feet, just a bit higher than the height of an Olympic High Dive platform. I've completed jumps from higher, but even in position, they can result in injury.
> 
> A comment on these "mixed flights", I flew on a number of them in the 1980's when I didn't have the funds to find more comfortable accommodations. Very small airlines used to offer limited seating with little to no amenities for very cheap rates, if you knew the right people to contact. A flight attendant would not have been provided, but was included here for the, well, heck of it.


	3. December 2, 1987: Shelter Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Land holds many promises: people, safety, and security among them. Will this land fulfill those promises or will they only be cold and empty?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: Descriptions of a medical nature ahead!
> 
> A note on "Tags", they are subject to change as the story progresses. I've never used them before, so it's a learning experience. If you see something that should be tagged, please leave me a comment on the chapter or send me a message in my Inbox.

~~~~~

December 2, 1987

Nothing made sense. The world rocked and the sound of water beating against something cut through the air disturbing the woman's sleep. "Huh?" The woman shifted her arm slightly, restoring some circulation to her left arm and hand, only then did she become aware of the body of a man in front of her. A man she was embracing tightly. Her brain refused to focus beyond the unusual, ' _impossible,_ ' her mind tossed out, situation. Finally, she forced her eyes open as the world rocked again and several drops of water splashed the back of her neck. "What the hell," she asked herself in a whisper she could barely hear. What she saw, didn't make any more sense than it had when her eyes were still closed. She swiped at her eyes, trying to figure out what was happening.

Her mind started building a picture for her: blond hair, on an extremely thin male body, a strong scent of blood, a red suit coat, a very, heavy blanket? That last short circuited her thoughts. She knew that blanket; it was normally wrapped around the case of her favorite guitar as an extra layer of protection. ' _He smells good,_ ' her nose told her, ' _masculine._ ' She mentally shook her head and shifted away from him. She could feel that he was breathing, strong deep breaths that came from the diaphragm with some engagement of the abdominal muscles. ' _A singer,_ ' she silently theorized. After another minute of looking at the back of his head, she struggled to lean on her elbow and saw the stack of luggage and the edge of the raft and memories flooded back into her consciousness. "Oh, shit," she gasped out as she shivered. Another spray of water hit her neck and back, sinking through her shirt.

Spider finally looked around more. Shapes shifted into actual identifiable entities: a tree without leaves, a sheer cliff-face, a spray of water, and a sliver of sand dune when the raft rocked again. "Land," she whispered before forcing herself to her knees, almost screaming at the agony that coursed through her back and torso. Several minutes of silently cursing helped her focus beyond the pain. Short breaths brought her body and mind under control. The raft felt as if it was moving and that knowledge forced her to look over the side, they were drifting back out into the ocean. The sandy beach was no longer under them. Ignoring the pain of her body through sheer desperation, she stood and jumped from the raft into about two feet of water. The icy cold shocked her, but it also helped push away some of the pain. She grabbed the rope that wrapped around the raft and pulled with every ounce of strength she possessed. Even if it wasn't warm, populated, or anything else, this was land! Maybe the only land they would find for days, weeks, or months. She knew they didn't have enough water or food to survive that long.

At least with land, even unpopulated land, there was a chance of finding fresh water or a food source, or maybe even shelter. The first few feet were a difficult battle because the tide was going out, away from the shore, but once she'd built some momentum, the raft floated easily behind her until she reached the sandy shoreline. The raft was very heavy, but she built up enough force to get it to the top of the tiny sand dune. While tiny, the dune was just steep enough that the raft easily reached the small dip with the help of gravity and she was able to get everything to the grassy area just beyond the beach. She looked back to the ocean. The tide was almost fully out now. The ocean had significant white caps on every wave and she knew first-hand how freezing the water was. Now, she also realized how cold the air was. The wind was blowing at a steady pace, making the temperature feel even colder. The sky was filled with darkened clouds that promised either a very icy rain or maybe snow. She shivered.

" _We need shelter and fire. I need to check on David._ " She remembered everything that had culminated in her waking up wrapped around the man. Her mental mussing was interrupted by the sound of a pained moan emanating from inside the raft. "David," she whispered as she climbed back in. "David," she prompted quietly as she touched his upper right arm. "Come on, David." She resisted the urge to shake him to gain his attention.

The moan shifted to a whimper when he tried to move his upper body. "Oh, god, help me," he managed to cry out before sobbing over the pain. Even the slightest touch seemed to bring him even more agony. Tears ran freely down his face even as he attempted to open his eyes to see what had caused his world to become nothing other than excruciating pain. "Why? What's wrong? What happened?"

"David," the woman began as she brushed her fingertips over his forehead, trying to calm him. "There was an accident."

"Joey!"

"Yes, but we were in an accident, too. Our plane went down." Shivers raced through the man's body, ripping whimpers from his lips as his damaged limbs shifted. "We are on land now. I need to make a shelter and get a fire started so I can treat your injuries. That will take away some of your pain."

"Make it stop." David whimpered again as he tried moving his arms.

Spider looked over the various items in the raft and realized she'd thrown a lot more in than she'd realized. She couldn't see the medical cases any where and she really didn't want to move everything, only to move it again once they had some kind of shelter. Strangely enough her backpack was sitting by itself right next to David's feet. She grabbed it and started digging through its contents. She always carried a few prescription pain killers for when she seriously strained her muscles. "I forgot I had these," she pulled out several bottles of water and the hoagie sandwich she'd taken on the plane. She quickly took three of the pain pills and a gulp of water before turning her attention to David. "I have something for you, David," she said quietly as she moved back to his side: the bottle of pain medication, the hoagie, and the bottle of water in hand. "You need to sit up to take this. I have something for you to eat, too." She slipped one arm under his head and cradled it gently. "I'm sorry, sitting up will be painful."

He whimpered as his torso was slowly raised. He cried out when his arms and shoulders shifted, but he never asked her to stop and lay him back down. Spider sat slightly behind him and supported his body against her own, sparing him some gentle touches along his upper arms and chest. His soft gasps even over the soft contact alerted her to possible injuries he'd suffered in those areas. As the pain of movement subsided when she settled him against her torso, David drew in as deep of a breath as he could without causing himself additional pain. The warmth the woman radiated helped him relax, which allowed his pain to lessen more. "Better," he whispered as he turned his head enough to tuck his nose against the woman's throat. He could feel her pulse against his forehead.

Spider shifted a little, trying not to cause his body to move and trigger pain. "Are you able to take pills?"

"Small ones. I have trouble swallowing them."

"This one isn't very big. I have plenty of water, then I have some food. This will help with your pain and make you tired." She opened the bottle of water and unwrapped the sandwich before setting it and its wrapper next to her hip. "David, here's the pill," she waited for him to open his mouth and placed it on his tongue, "and the water," she pressed the mouth of the bottle against his bottom lip. He drank several gulps of the liquid before gagging slightly.

"I hate pills."

Even under the circumstances, Spider had to grin and hold back a chuckle. He sounded like a little boy, angry at being forced to do something that he didn't want to do. "Would you like more water?"

"Yes," David opened his mouth slightly and took several additional mouthfuls of water before nodding. "My mouth tastes terrible."

The woman didn't want to admit that his breath was atrocious; she didn't think it was morning breath. She knew the strong metallic scent was indicative of either internal injury or something being damaged in his mouth; until she had a chance to investigate, she couldn't determine what was causing it and she didn't want to guess and possibly worry David. He apologized for his breath. "It's okay. I'm sure mine smells no better."

"I can't smell it."

"Be happy about that." She chuckled slightly as he scoffed and shook his head against her neck. "How do you feel, David?"

"Like floating."

"Are you in less pain?"

"Um," he paused as he seemed to search for words, "yeah. It's better."

"That's good. I'm going to have you eat something now. That pill is very hard on an empty stomach and if I'm going to lay you back down, you need food so your stomach isn't damaged. It will also help you not to throw up." She petted over the man's overly thin right arm before lifting the sandwich from its wrapping. "Do you think you can open your mouth enough to bite into a hoagie?"

David tried opening his mouth, but beyond a certain point, it was too painful. "I can't." A flash of panic flared up within his mind as he wondered how seriously his face was damaged. His public persona was based as much on his looks as his voice, maybe more so for some people, he had to admit. "Shouldn't the pain go away?" He finally managed to crack his eyes open. "You're hurt." He spotted a large gash on the back of the woman's neck. It was scabbed over, but appeared deep. "Oh, the plane." The woman's earlier words about the plane echoed and he started remembering what had happened. "That's from protecting me," he whispered.

The woman nodded, not trusting her voice in the moment. She was trying to figure out a way of helping David eat the sandwich. He needed to eat. His arm felt even thinner than it had yesterday, although no one lost weight that rapidly. "You need to eat, David. Do you think if I pull small pieces off the sandwich you can try eating those?"

He nodded. "I can try. But you need to eat, too."

"I will." She knew if nothing else, she could catch a fish and roast it over a fire.

"I'll try." He opened his mouth a little as she tore a piece off the hoagie. When she placed it in his mouth, he was surprised at the rush of hunger he felt. He chewed it until he could swallow it and opened his mouth for another piece. He looked like a baby bird, begging for the next bite of food. The sequence was repeated until the sandwich was gone. David breathed deeply, and released it in a sigh.

"Did that fill you up?"

The man shifted slightly and glanced toward the woman's face. Her features were distorted as close as he was, but he saw the slightly upturned corner of her mouth. He nodded before adding, "mostly." He was rewarded by her smile. His eyes fell closed and his body felt very heavy as the pain killer kicked in fully. "Tired," he whispered. Blue eyes opened once more as his torso shifted. The woman slowly settled him on his left side again. A few sharp stabs of pain accompanied the movement, but they felt distant and of no consequence. He tried saying something, almost anything, but no words reached his mouth. His lips moved like those of a beached fish before they stilled and his eyes fell shut. Distantly he was aware of the heavy blanket being wrapped around him again and something soft being placed beneath his head.

Spider sighed as the man's breathing evened out. She touched the pulse at his neck and checked to assure herself that he was protected from the cold, for the time being at least. She glanced toward the sky and shivered at the thickening clouds. She hoped the weather would hold off until she had shelter, or maybe it would move around them. She dove into the collected materials and shoved things around until she located several of her guitars. David moaned and shifted slightly, causing her to return her attention to him. She was surprised that his eyes were open and he was watching her. After a pair of minutes of waiting for a question or anything out of him, she returned her attention to what she'd located. She removed the first Fender Stratocaster and quickly removed its strings. The action was repeated with her two Gibson Les Paul guitars and one Ibenez Electric. The guitars were returned to their cases; before resealing them, she removed all the extra sets of strings she carried for the instruments along with a set of needle-nosed pliers and wire cutters.

"Your guitars?"

David's words made the woman glance toward him before engaging the latches. "My guitars." She saw confusion cross the man's face. "They aren't my favorites." Her comment and shrug caused him to laugh softly and smile. "I need to build a shelter so we can be out of the storm that's heading toward us. I hope the wire can help hold things together securely enough that it won't blow over or fall down. It's not as if I have tons of rope or duck tape. Certainly not a hammer and nails to build something."

"Build something," he chuckled. "I'd be useless. I couldn't even paint my son's crib right. The paint wouldn't dry."

"Did you strip off the varnish or old paint before hand?"

"Huh?" He looked at her with even deeper confusion than before. "You have to do that?"

"It's advisable. Paint has to have something coarse to attach to. Most wood has a coarse surface, so paint will soak into it. If there is existing paint, you can use sandpaper to rough it up most of the time and then lay a new surface on it. Varnish really needs to be removed completely in order to paint over it. Varnish is just too smooth to hold paint."

"I painted over walls."

"Plaster?"

"Yeah."

"That's why the paint went on then dried. Plaster never becomes completely sealed. It will always have tiny holes that will allow paint to dry. Or at least that was how it was originally explained to me." She smiled at the man who was trying to keep his eyes open. "You need to rest."

"I will." He fought against his eyelids for a minute more before they fell closed and he again sank into a deep sleep.

Spider went to his side and shifted the blanket again. His body felt a little chilled so she returned to the guitars, removed their blankets, and added them to the sleeping man. Standing up, she looked more closely around their surroundings. To her right, in the grove of tall, leafless trees less than one hundred yards from her, she spotted a large mixed herd of white and black-tailed deer. They didn't appear aware of her presence or else weren't concerned by it. No animal that lived in proximity to humans would display such behavior. They would be aware that a human was a threat. She could only theorize that this was an island or peninsula that was unpopulated or rarely populated. "At least there's a food source," she whispered to herself. Right now, a food source was much lower on requirements for survival; they needed shelter. Even water wasn't a top priority. She had several bottles of water in her backpack and knew there were several dozen in the extra cases she'd packed.

To her left, there was a large grove of tall, thin trees. They were packed together tightly which contributed to their growth habit. She reached into her backpack and removed the heavy military knife she always carried, but shook her head at the thought of trying to cut down enough trees to build a shelter with it. She needed a saw. Her eyes continued scanning the area: pine trees could provide "shingles" for the sides and as a substrate for a roof, cattails were a source for starch as well as material for weaving baskets and mats, heavy reeds would be perfect for a top-layer of roofing. But, first she needed a frame to build a roof and walls on. She became aware of the soft scraping of her thumb nail on one of the guitar strings. It was a weird habit she'd developed early in her learning curve. She had to smile when she raised her hand and saw the groove the string had carved into her nail. "Well, if it can do that, maybe I can use it to cut down a tree. I need handles or something to keep from cutting myself." She continued mumbling to herself as she headed for the tall, thin trees. The deer were milling around watching her. They seemed more curious than concerned. One jumped slightly and Spider wondered if they finally thought they should get away from her, but streaks of gray rushing into their midst told her that she wasn't what had placed them on alert. And, she recognized that something more than deer were in the region. A deer went down easily to the pack of wolves while the remainder of the herd scattered, bounding away into the woods. The wolves didn't appear to notice her presence as they all dug in for a warm meal. "Maybe some weapons would be good." She returned to the raft and grabbed the knife, placing it on her belt. It wouldn't be useful against a pack of wolves, but against a single one, she'd bet her life on it.

She wrapped the wire of an "A" guitar string around a pair of heavy sticks, tightening the wire around itself with the needle-nosed pliers. She snapped the length of wire straight and smiled when it held. Within a few minutes, she had the first tree felled. She glanced toward the area where the wolves had brought down the deer and realized the creatures had cleared out of the area. That didn't mean they would stay gone, though. She worked steadily for most of an hour. When she was finished, she had a stack of a couple dozen felled trees and smiled at them. They were more than enough to build a foundation for a small modified A-frame shelter. She bundled the trunks together and started dragging them back to the raft. She didn't want to build right on the beach, but near it. Any rescue would come from the ocean, at least that was her assumption. After building a shelter and taking care of David's medical needs, she hoped to find some red items, shirts or vests, she could hang from poles to signal that they needed help. She thought about the brilliant red suit and shirt David wore and wondered if he'd willingly part with them if those were the only clothes he had with him. She made several more trips back and forth to get all the trees moved. On the last trip, she realized how white the sand was. If she could find dark rocks or other items, she could spell out SOS or the word HELP. That would cover water and air.

It took her longer than expected to build the shelter's frame. The wire was temperamental at the best of times and for some reason, it didn't lend itself well to a construction project. But, after a little over an hour and a half, she'd managed to get a solid frame assembled. The roof would be too low to allow her to stand straight, but that would mean there was less interior square footage to heat so less wood would be required for the fire. She gathered pine boughs, easily chopped through with the knife. She stacked them on the largest ones and dragged two sets on each of four trips to the shelter's frame. With wire strung between leaning supports, she wove in the pine boughs with overlaps that would allow rain to run off them. She dug a trench along the back and sides of the shelter so water wouldn't collect at the base and enter that way. A few quickly woven cattail mats provided a thin layer of weather-proofing before thin reeds, wired into bundles finished off the roof.

She entered the little structure and wondered how she could add a door. After a few minutes of deliberation, she took the time to place rocks in a circle and light a fire within it. The door was still on her mind when she heard a wolf howl nearby. Spider exited the shelter and spotted a pair of wolves near the cliff-face on her right. It was the same sheer rock structure she'd seen when she first opened her eyes. She grabbed one of the tall trees left over from creating the shelter's frame and quickly started shaving the thin top to a sharp point. It wasn't fire-hardened or finished smoothly using sandstone or another rough surface, but it would do in a pinch if she needed to defend herself and David. The wolves turned away and trotted off into the treeline, but she was certain they would return. "A door," she whispered. She looked at the primitive spear she held and sighed. At least it was a weapon. She cut one long trunk in half and added a top and bottom beam, before adding pine boughs to the top half. The lower half, she decided to leave open except for closely spaced strings of high "E" guitar strings. When she pressed into them with force, they left red marks in her skin. If something struck them hard enough it would be sliced open. Regardless, they would act as a window out of the shelter while providing protection at the same time. The wire was spaced widely enough that she could strike through it. "A shield."

Spider rolled her shoulders and grimaced against the pain in her back. She wondered, not for the first time, how seriously she'd been injured. Her back felt wet, whether because of sweat or blood, wasn't clear. She debated about removing her shirt to look, but when she tugged at the fabric, she realized that at least portions of the fabric were firmly attached to her skin. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, shuddering breath and admitted that it was probably due to blood that had clotted. She re-entered the small structure and was relieved that the interior was starting to warm up. There was still cold air coming through the door and from small crevices around the pine boughs but for the most part, it felt relatively secure when compared to the open raft. She spent the next thirty minutes finding the emergency cases and moving them inside. She draped a blanket from one of the bonus cases over the lower portion of the door and went to the raft for the next load of cases.

She'd checked on David several times and had been relieved to discover that he'd warmed up nicely under the blankets and appeared to be resting comfortably. She wanted the shelter to be at least as warm before moving him. Once he was inside, she would see what medical treatment she could provide him. That would require removing his clothing and she didn't want him to become chilled. She scratched her skin and grimaced at the tightness the dried salt caused. She stepped into the raft and barely managed to catch herself on one of the cargo transport cases as she fell. A strange clang that was reminiscent of pots and pans being struck together made her smile. Nothing like serendipity making itself known. She broke the security lock on the case and had to laugh aloud at the arrangement of pots, pans, cooking utensils, knives, and even a four piece dining set: plates, bowls, mugs, and silverware. There was a collection of numerous bottles of very expensive herbs and spices, serving platters and bowls, and a pair of acrylic cutting boards. "Must have been for a chef," she commented before closing the case and moving it into the shelter. Inside she stared at the fire and shook her head, wondering how she could place pans over the fire without damaging them to much. Again outside, she realized the sun was far beyond its zenith; she only had about three hours of daylight left, if she was estimating their latitude correctly, and felt that she still had a lot to do. She hurried over to the cliff face and searched for a flat rock that was as dry as possible. Under an overhang, she discovered exactly what she was after. She lugged it back to the shelter and after setting a small, round stone just inside the edge of the flames, leaned the rock on it. She used a heavy stick to shove hot coals in the space under the flat stone and happily felt the surface begin to warm.

"Okay, I think it's time to move David." She stood and frowned as she thought about placing him directly on the ground. "Maybe a bit of a bed is in order?" Inside the bonus emergency cases, she still had blankets and pillows, she knew if she had some kind of ground cover, they would make an adequate sleeping place for the injured man. She exited the space and quickly wove the remaining cattail leaves into a mat. After placing the mat on the ground, she laid a single blanket over it and arranged most of the pillows on top of it, wrapping another blanket over the entire arrangement. She pressed her hands into the surface and nodded at the softness. One of the remaining pillows was placed at the head of the bed and the rest of the packages of blankets were at the foot. She frowned as she realized there was very little room left in the shelter. "Perhaps the guitars need to leave," she mumbled. She was already feeling guilty for scavenging her guitars for construction supplies, but deep down, she knew the electric guitars were useless without electricity. "Okay, move David."

Spider stumbled again as she entered the raft. The pain medication she'd taken earlier was wearing off rapidly and she could feel herself growing weaker. She reached out to David and brushed her fingertips over the side of his heavily bruised face. "David," she prompted quietly. She didn't want to startle him. He was in a deep sleep and she assumed it wouldn't take much. "Come on, David. It's okay," she added as his blue eyes flashed open and he gasped. She repeated his name several times before he calmed and relaxed. "How do you feel, David?"

"Pain's back." He grimaced and drew a shaky breath.

"We have a shelter and it's warmed up a lot. I want to move you, but you need to know that there will be pain. I'm not trying to hurt you, it's just that I'm going to have to carry you. I need you to try to relax as much as possible. If the pain becomes too much for you to handle, tell me. I'll put you down and try to figure out another way to get you inside." She waited for him to say something. "Do you understand, David?"

"I understand. Could you give me another of those pills?" His voice was filled with fear. The pain he was already feeling was almost more than he could handle, additional pain from being moved terrified him.

"No, I can't." She held up a hand when he looked ready to say something. "I'm hoping the pharmacy case will have additional choices for pain management; choices that will not trigger your addiction."

"Damn," David's face became panicked. "What did you give me?"

"Morphine." She touched the side of his face and waited for his eyes to reopen. "David, you were in so much pain, that I had give you something. The pain will be even worse when I put your shoulder back in place and reset your fractures. I have no idea if you have internal injuries and if you do, how serious they may be."

"What if I become addicted again? Quitting was horrible. I swore I'd never use anything like that again." He was becoming agitated and his attempts at moving were increasing his anxiety level as well as his pain. She knew the two could feed off each other.

Spider brushed her hands down his right arm and made comforting sounds at him until he fell silent. "You won't become addicted. I'm hoping that the amount of pain you feel after everything is realigned will decrease to a level that you won't need drugs or is at least manageable with conventional over-the-counter medications such as aspirin. I have a feeling your pain tolerance is very high based on how physically active you were for this tour. Because of your reaction to the knowledge that you took morphine, you also have a strong desire never to repeat your mistakes from earlier in your life. Also, David," she paused until his eyes met hers, "you're extremely sensitive to opioids. That pill should never have knocked you out the way it did. I took a couple to deal with my own pain and I didn't even become tired. My tolerance level is not that high. Some people develop a high sensitivity to drugs they had previous addictions to."

"That means less drugs?"

"Yes," Spider answered accompanied by a nod. "How about I get you inside and we can continue this conversation. Everything might change based on what's in the pharmacy case."

"Okay." David frowned as she removed the blankets that were covering him. He realized just how cold the air actually was and wondered why the woman wasn't shivering even though she was only wearing jeans and a light-weight button down shirt. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not really. I've been moving around a lot and I'm almost never cold. I'm a little breathing space heater, or so I've been told." She smiled gently.

David smiled back. "You kept me warm last night. I woke a couple of times and could feel someone breathing on my neck, but it was like I was laying next to an electric blanket. The warmth was relaxing when you held me earlier." He wasn't sure how the woman would react to his comments. She appeared confident, but he sensed a shyness about her. He couldn't put his finger on it. There was something in the way she moved that made him think she was trying to disappear.

Spider gently shifted David into a sitting position similar to the one he'd been in earlier, but instead of sitting behind him, she knelt next to him. She quickly placed her left arm under his legs at the bend of his knee, her right was high on his back, just below his shoulders, his head and neck were settled against her shoulder. "Ready?" He nodded and she felt him tense up. "Relax," she said gently as she forced herself to stand, cradling him in her arms. For a moment, she fought against a wave of dizziness before opening her eyes. She moved toward the side of the raft and stepped past it, moving steadily until she reached the shelter.

"You built this?" David's question was accompanied by raised eyebrows and a shocked expression.

"I know it isn't much, but it is a roof over our heads and once the door is closed, it'll warm back up quickly."

The blond forced himself to relax as a sharp stab of pain ran through his neck and shoulders when Spider shifted slightly to duck into the structure. He glanced around the space and was shocked at what the woman had accomplished. It made him feel even more useless. For the first time, he wondered why he'd survived. He had nothing to offer in this situation and would only be a hindrance; the woman was evidently quite able to take care of herself, ' _and me,_ ' he added silently. David shivered slightly as she knelt, her knees popping due to the added strain of his weight, then he felt a soft bed press against his back and he sighed. He turned his head just enough that he could look at what he was laying on and was surprised to see the airline blanket, he didn't think they could provide so much cushion.

"There are pillows under it," Spider's comment drew his eyes back to hers.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"It's what I would have wondered." The woman stood again. "I'll get the blankets you were using. Then, I'll see what I can do to put you on a path to healing." It took her a few minutes to get the blankets. She set them off to the side before sitting between the fire and his bed. She'd already arranged the various medical cases near that position, along with several bottles of water and a large sauce pan from the cargo case. After testing the stone, she nodded to herself that the heated stone would serve its purpose before emptying two bottles of water into the pan and setting it on the stone.

"Isn't that wasting our water?"

"I need to get that salt off your skin. Eventually it will cause irritation and maybe even severe skin sores. You're going to be laying down most of the time until you heal. Your skin needs to be kept as clean and irritation free as possible to prevent discomfort and possible infection. I need to ask you a few questions before we begin." She waited for him to nod. "Is it all right if I treat you?"

"Yes." He wondered why she'd ask that since she was the only other person there. It wasn't as if he could do anything for himself. Then he realized, she was professionally trained in medicine, it was probably a question she would have asked in any situation.

"I'll need to remove your clothing. That may require cutting them off if I can't remove them without causing you harm or severe pain." He frowned at the loss of his performance suit, but he had others, so he nodded. "Are you okay with my washing you? Giving you a bath?"

He blushed nervously, then grinned slyly at her. "I can't guarantee my body will behave."

"I won't be offended."

"I would hope not."

"Cheeky bastard," Spider said with a smile and a shake of her head. David just chuckled. "I promise that nothing I do is meant to embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable. If something does either of those things, speak up. If there is an alternative, I'll do that, otherwise, we talk about it."

"I can do that," David said turning more serious.

She asked additional questions and listened to his answers. David was starting to feel as if he was giving a complete medical history before realizing that in many ways he was. She wasn't treating him in a superficial way, she was going to be performing major medical procedures on him. It wouldn't be surgery, but setting bones and putting joints back in place were not minor things.

Almost thirty minutes and what felt like one hundred questions later, the woman nodded and sighed. "Okay," Spider turned her attention to the various medical cases, breaking the secondary security locks on all of them before opening the pharmacy case. Her eyebrows disappeared beneath her floppy hair. "Damn."

"That poorly stocked?"

"No, that well stocked." Spider began looking at the various drugs the kit contained: heart medications, insulin, glucose, pain medications, muscle relaxants, antibiotics, psychiatric drugs, adrenaline/epinephrine, and more, and that only covered the injectables. The bottom of the case was stuffed with bottles of numerous commonly prescribed medications covering much the same as the upper vials of medications, but in a larger variety. Behind the top shield were syringes and a needle disposal container. A diabetic test kit was tucked into one corner with several vials of test strips. She checked the expiration dates and saw they were at least three years in the future. There were several sizes of blood pressure cuffs and the requisite gauge and inflation bulb. A set of stethoscopes, otoscope, and other basic examination tools were contained in their own little compartments. The last compartment she opened was filled with surgical tools. Literally the pharmacy case contained everything she would have needed to perform at least basic emergency surgery and many major procedures. There were even vials of injectable anesthetic agents for putting someone down in preparation for surgery. Two of the medications were not safe unless you had the ability of providing ventilation support and supplemental oxygen, but she didn't see either of those things included in the kit. She assumed under emergency circumstances mouth-to-mouth resuscitation could be used, but there was no way she would ever attempt such an activity under these conditions.

"I wasn't expecting to have this many choices." She returned her attention to David. "Have you ever been administered muscle relaxants? Either injection or orally."

David nodded. "Yes. On this tour. I had a few injuries, but the show had to go on. The doctor gave them to me."

"Do you remember which one or ones?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll use the one I'm most familiar with." She watched the man's facial expressions and made special note of the nervous twitches of his eyes, chewing on his lower lip, and his uneven breathing. "David," she prompted quietly. "Are you going to be all right? I can give you a single dose of a medication for dealing with anxiety. I wouldn't give you a dose that would be high enough to knock you out. Just something that will take the edge off your nervousness. It would help you stay calm."

"I hate to do that," he admitted. "I just don't know. I don't want to lose my mind. I don't want to hallucinate."

"It shouldn't make you hallucinate; they can give you very weird, very vivid dreams. Although, aspirin in high enough doses can do that. Heck, water can do that."

"Really?" David didn't look convinced but felt he had to believe her when she nodded. Her expression was not one that made him think she was joking. She appeared serious. "Would it have any other side effects?"

"It might make it possible to use a lower dose of pain medication and muscle relaxants. If you aren't as anxious, your body wouldn't react to pain as strongly." She could see he was reticent and didn't want to force anything on him.

"That would be a good thing, right."

"Yes. It can be. But, keep in mind that the medication is only a crutch. I won't allow you to make a habit of using them. They are addictive." She held up a hand and headed off David's more panicked reaction. "One dose does not mean you will develop an addiction and I'll keep the dose low enough that you shouldn't experience side effects beyond the most minor: relaxing and hopefully falling asleep and dreaming vividly."

"Okay." For some reason that decision alone made him feel certain that everything was going to be fine and that he was in control.

"I'll start drawing up the medications." Spider removed one vial each of the anxiety and pain medications along with the muscle relaxant. Three syringes followed those and were arranged neatly. Alcohol swabs and a large bandage was added before she withdrew a pair of bandage scissors. She closed the lid of the case and shifted everything to the flat surface. She checked the medical kits and found them to be as extensively stocked with supplies. She glanced toward the fire and added more wood before she checked the water. It was extremely hot, too hot to use right away, but she needed to get the man's clothing off of him, at least his upper body to start with. She dropped a large surgical gauze cover into the water, expecting to use it as a wash cloth before turning toward David. He was waiting patiently. "Are you cold? Warm enough for me to start removing your clothes?"

"I'm not cold and I think so." He did look nervous.

"Let me see if I can remove these without cutting them off. I don't know if you have any other clothes in your carry on."

"I doubt it. Maybe a shirt," David offered.

"There might be things in the stuff I tossed into the raft that would fit you, but I'm not certain of that." She shifted to kneel next to him and started unbuttoning both his suit jacket and the shirt under it. The shirt still felt damp from the dunking in the ocean. Spider lifted him into a sitting position drawing a pained moan from his lips, but he didn't protest or ask her to stop. It wasn't until she shifted his right shoulder that he begged her to stop that it was too much. His body shook as she released the jacket and returned it to its original position. Even a tiny movement of his upper arm to remove the outer coat had been too much. "It's okay," she whispered as she held him until he settled again. "I'm sure I can find something for you to wear." She laid him back into the bed and frowned. She thought about using a needle to remove the stitches and then sewing the seams back up later before looking more closely at David's face. He was struggling. The pain medication from earlier was completely out of his system. A light sheen of sweat coated his brow and he appeared nervous. Each time she paused, he tensed in anticipation of additional pain. "David, I'm sorry about your coat."

"Maybe you'll have better luck saving my pants?" He managed to force a smile to his lips as he mentally pictured having to walk about naked for the foreseeable future. He'd always been comfortable with his body, but he didn't think he'd be comfortable with his nudity in their current situation. As Spider had carried him to the shelter, he'd had a chance to look around and had been shocked at the wilderness they were stranded in.

"Maybe." She glanced toward his feet and nodded a little. "At least they can just be pulled off. I'll try to save your boots, too. They would give you footwear, even though they are not very practical."

"You don't know much about David Bowie if you think practicality is something that is a priority for me."

Spider chuckled. "Very true, although in our current situation, don't you think a little practicality could go a long way?'

"I will give you that."

It took about five minutes, but Spider finally removed David's jacket and shirt. She reached for the gauze in the water and wrung it out. "I'm going to wipe off your shoulder so I can give you the medications. They can start working while I clear away the rest of the salt." He nodded silently and tensed as the gauze wiped over the skin below his shoulder. The water was hot but not uncomfortably so and her gentle touches were comforting. He sighed and closed his eyes as his arm started relaxing just from the warmth. "David, do you want a warning before I give you the shots?" She swiped the alcohol swab over his arm.

"Um, I don't think so," he briefly opened his eyes to glance toward her before relaxing again, his eyes closing a moment later.

Spider didn't say anything but kept gentle contact between the cloth and his arm as she lifted the first prepared syringe, injecting the medication for anxiety into his deltoid. He seemed to barely react, just a tiny twitch as the medication entered. She continued with the distraction of the hot water and quickly injected the other two medications below the initial puncture. All three bled slightly but the blood disappeared with a single swipe of the cloth.

"On second thought, warn me," David said as he opened his eyes and looked at the woman nervously.

"Too late. I've already given you the medications." She smiled at his surprised look. "You really like heat."

"I'm always cold, so yeah, I appreciate heat. The water feels so good." He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled. "It's relaxing."

Spider nodded as she wiped away the newest droplets of blood before applying a large adhesive bandage. "Let me wipe off your face, I want to see how serious these fractures are." After removing the dried salt and a few pieces of plane debris from the man's sensitive skin, she rubbed over his growing whiskers and shook her head a little. His mismatched blue eyes were closed but opened at her touch. "You really don't look right with this scruff." He tried to smile, but it was lopsided. Confusion colored his expression and his right eye was slightly out of focus. His left eye was a lost cause, permanently dilated because of an injury from his teenage years. "Describe how you're feeling."

"Weird. Strange. Happy." David chuckled at his words. "Good drugs."

"No, just drugs."

"Not good?" He tried focusing on the woman's face and swore she was weaving around on purpose. "Feels really good." He blinked at that comment. "No." He struggled against the effects of the drugs.

"David, calm down. They're just drugs. What is good is that they are doing their job." She paused a moment to allow him to process her words. "You don't have to worry. They will wear off. This isn't like before. You aren't abusing them and you won't abuse them."

"Yeah," he said as he again relaxed into the haze brought on by the medications. "Still."

"Still nothing." Spider had been looking over David's face more closely and thought that what she'd previously interpreted as multiple fractures involving his nose and cheekbones might not be as extensive as first thought. "Relax David, I'm going to try stealing your nose." She closed her first two fingers of her right hand over his nose and gave it a quick jerk upward and toward his forehead. A soft click and slight settling realigned the damaged bones.

"Not my nose!" David finally managed well after everything had happened.

"I'll give it back," Spider said as she gently ran her fingers along each side of his nose. She wiped the cloth over his upper lip, clearing away the trickle of blood that resetting the bones had caused.

David slurred out what sounded a lot like 'thank you' before drawing a deep breath and giving a contented sigh.

"That's it." The woman kept washing off the salt. David's neck, chest, sides, arms, and abdomen. "David," she asked softly, testing his level of relaxation and awareness, before she lifted him to lean against her body. He slouched against her as she washed his neck and down his back. He sighed several times against her shoulder when the heat of the water seemed to comfort him. As she cleared away the salt, she checked for additional injuries. Bruising on the front and rear of his torso showed points of impact and when his ribs gave under even gentle palpitations, she knew they would need to be protected. There were large rolls of gauze in the medical kits and even elastic bandages if additional support was required. She laid him back on the bed and decided to put the dislocated shoulder back in place before wrapping his torso. She could bind the limb at the same time. The muscles, tendons, and ligaments of his shoulder would require support and immobilization if it was to heal properly.

David moaned when Spider manipulated the arm. When she applied steady traction to his upper arm, he let out a brief scream before relaxing again. One final stretch on the support structures of his shoulder allowed the joint to settle in a proper position, drawing a relieved sigh from the man's lips. He immediately relaxed into the cushion of the pillows and the lines of stress smoothed from his face. One pain of many was eliminated and even in his drugged state, he was aware of it on some level.

Spider grabbed a roll of extra wide gauze from the open case and wrapped David's torso. After the ribs were fully supported, she used the final portions of the gauze to support and immobilize his right arm. She bent it at the elbow and placed the fingers of his hand over his left clavicle, the position mimicked one many people assumed naturally. Three more wraps of the remaining gauze and she finished it off with surgical tape. She laid him back down and tested the pulses of his right wrist before double checking his shoulder hadn't shifted during bandaging. Finding everything still aligned properly, she nodded at the results. The shoulder was heavily bruised but she knew that would eventually fade. Of more concern were the bruises on his abdomen. They were smaller, but numerous and dark. She hadn't been able to feel any underlying damage that would have indicated organ damage, so decided to leave that area alone for the time being. She would see if it became worse or if the indications of injuries were due to superficial impacts without further underlying trauma.

She moved lower along David's bed and swallowed hard as she reached for his belt. She unbuckled it and gently removed it from around his waist, drawing the leather gently through the loops on his pants. There were always men around the hospital whenever a male patient was undressed and a woman, alone with a male patient, was never authorized to undress or assist in undressing the patient. She hoped David understood that she meant no offense by removing his clothes. After glancing at his relaxed face, she gently unbuttoned the pants and drew down the zipper, keeping the pants pulled away from any underlying body parts after realizing that he wasn't wearing underwear. She frowned as she noticed irritation and heavy redness under the waistband of his dress slacks. The salt encrusted fabric was already causing problems with his skin. In several places, the red fabric was whitened from how much salt it had absorbed. She removed his boots and seriously questioned if they could be saved. The suede leather of the uppers was discolored and had torn away from the soles in places. They had done their job and protected his feet, but sacrificed themselves in the process. She removed his socks, having to be extra careful when pulling them down. Their upper edges were just above his tib/fib fractures.

David moaned slightly as his legs were shifted. For a moment, he couldn't understand why his legs hurt. Memories flashed through his mind and the pain made sense. When gentle hands worked his pants over his hips and thighs, he wanted to smile over the tentative contact. In some ways it was more of a turn on than rougher, more aggressive actions most women engaged in when attempting to arouse him. The weird images and memories passing through his brain didn't give him leave to explain everything that was happening to him. His body reacted of its own accord even as he felt moments of pain as his pants were drawn down his legs, again jostling his lower legs. He groaned before gasping at the sharp grating pain in his legs. His groin tightened sharply as the pain released. ' _Are you a masochist, David,_ ' he asked himself silently. He'd never found pain to be much of a turn on. Although sometimes he did find it interesting to delay his gratification until it was painful. It made the final release that much more exquisite when it did come. His thoughts continued as hot water was wiped over his feet. He thought it was even extremely pleasurable and silently mouthed for it to continue. His feet had been very uncomfortable and he wiggled his toes enjoying the gentle, slight tickling brushes of a cloth.

Spider glanced toward the man's face and had to smile at the relaxed, happy smile that graced it. He made soft contented noises with each wipe of the gauze and she had to wonder what he was thinking, feeling, or seeing in his drugged state. Cleaning the skin of his lower legs was a bit of a challenge. The pain caused by even a light touch made David squirm a little, but he still smiled widely and even giggled a few times. She wondered if the drugs were changing how he reacted to pain or if he was into that. She'd read numerous articles and books about the man over the years, as well as interviews with him and those who knew him or had been involved with him. No one and nothing had ever inferred that he was into pain in a sexual way, neither giving or receiving it. But, he was acting as if the pain was a turn on now. She watched his face as she applied steady pulls on either side of the fracture on his right lower leg and was relieved to see a more normal reaction to the pain caused by the setting of the bones. He grimaced and whined a little. His eyes flashed open for a moment but fell closed before she could identify any emotions in them. She used some of the heavy batting-style padding from the case to protect David's skin before applying a brace made of heavy grade plastic to stabilize his lower leg. She quickly set the left leg as well, giving it the same treatment. She finished washing the salt from his knees and thighs before carefully cleaning his groin. ' _He's intact,_ ' she thought as she really looked at him for the first time. He'd developed a partial erection during the bath and even not fully hard, he was the largest man she'd ever seen. ' _Wow, okay, definitely not out of a textbook._ ' Spider gently cleared the salt from around his scrotum, grimacing over the irritated skin. She wiped his penis and frowned at the thought of salt being trapped beneath his foreskin. After drawing in a deep, nervous breath and releasing it slowly, she eased back the skin and cleaned that area as well. She spared another thought about him being understanding, that this was to protect him. She meant no offense and wasn't trying to be voyeuristic or get a cheap thrill by washing him. Another look at his face, didn't give her a clue as to how he was reacting or not reacting. She could only hope that he was so drugged that he was oblivious. It only took her a few more minutes to finish cleaning away the salt from David's buttocks and roll him onto his back again. She'd saved the worst fracture until last.

David's left forearm had multiple fractures of both the ulna and radius. Portions of the bones were broken into small pieces and had migrated away from their original positions. Just feeling the break let her know this was an injury that would have been a challenge to set with x-rays, without such a tool, she wasn't sure if she could save his lower arm. In a hospital setting, it would have been automatically referred for repair in the operating room. During questioning, she'd asked him when it had been broken, if he knew. He'd responded that he thought it had been broken when the plane broke apart; he remembered something large and hard striking his forearm and chest before seeing the darkening sky. The impact had knocked his arm out of the handles of his carry on and the seat cushion, leaving his arm dangling as he fell. He had struggled to cover it with the cushion he held in his other arm to protect it. However, he hadn't thought what would happen to his other arm when he hit the water. Spider thought about giving him a second dose of pain medication and muscle relaxants, but fought the urge. She didn't know how he'd react to it physically and mentally. It took close to an hour to finally get the various pieces of bone into somewhat normal positions. She wasn't sure if the arm would heal, but she'd given it the best chance he'd get in their current situation. She wrapped the arm with gauze batting and applied a brace. She hadn't noticed originally that his hand had also been fractured. She quickly set those bones and fashioned a wrap that would prevent him from doing anything with his hand. After looking the now bandaged and braced man over, she realized her earlier discomfort of washing him wasn't going to get any less awkward. He had no way of taking care of himself until he had healed enough to have his right arm released and that would have to wait for a couple of weeks at least.

"Well, what has to be done, has to be done," she said to herself softly as she gathered up unused supplies and placed them back in their positions. She shook out the blankets David had been wrapped in earlier and draped them over him. He would need all the protection they could provide now that he had nothing else to cover him. She double checked his distal pulses and felt relief when they were all strong and even. His respirations were steady, deep, and rhythmic as if he was asleep, not heavily drugged. ' _He might have fallen asleep,_ ' she thought as she realized how much time had passed. The edge of the sun was below the horizon. She sighed softly before standing and trying to stretch her back out. The pain the movement triggered was overwhelming and she collapsed to her knees before she could prevent it. The scream that built in her chest and tried to escape was trapped in her throat; she'd barely stopped it. Her stomach growled loudly as she again struggled to her feet. She thought about food. David would need healthy food if he was going to heal. The hoagie she'd fed him earlier hadn't been much. He'd probably already burned through those limited nutrients. A glance between her spear and out the door let her know there wasn't enough time to hunt down a deer and bring it back. She wasn't sure she'd be able to kill a deer using only her arm strength for a throw with an untested, unpracticed with, spear. She'd need a force-multiplier for that.

With a sigh, she sat down and removed her boots. They were still wet inside as were her socks. She took a minute to hang a pair of guitar strings from the roof of the shelter before washing the socks in the water she'd used to clean David up. She quickly did the same for his socks, although they were so light weight, she knew they would be useless in keeping his feet warm. Several swipes of the wet cloth removed most of the salt from the outside of her leather boots; Spider hoped the waterproof treatment she used would stand up to the salt. She removed the insoles and washed those as well. She hung all the washed items over the strings and tossed the water out the front door. She emptied a bottle of water into the pan and placed it back on the flat stone, again scraping some glowing coals under it. She'd wash up after getting something for dinner. Out of her checked luggage, she got a net laundry bag and stood. Right before leaving the shelter, she decided to grab the spear and take it with her. There were wolves around and she had no idea what else might be out there. The top edge of the sun was barely above the horizon as she closed the door behind her, dropping the clasp she'd fashioned into place.

The ocean looked black and for once the surface appeared as smooth as glass. The earlier white caps had disappeared. The sand was icy on her bare feet. Near the edge of the water, she removed her jeans then waded into the cold water. The condition of the water had a huge benefit, she could see all the way to the seabed. Tiny echoes of movement indicated where small fish were, but she wanted something big enough to feed both of them. She waded deeper, ignoring the cold. About one hundred feet from shore, she stepped on a rock that shifted and she fell completely into the water, the shocking chill woke her slightly causing her to wonder if she was crazy. She struggled to her feet and sighed when the pain in her back faded away. Several additional steps took her into significantly deeper water and she saw a glint of silver as a large school of fish swam past, trying to reach the apparent safety of even deeper water. Spider's first reaction was to try to spear them, but that made her realize that she'd left the spear with her jeans. She allowed her arms to drop, submerging her hands almost to the bottom to graze along the sand. She brought her hands up as a fish swam between her arms, capturing it by the gills and quickly dropped it into the net bag. She repeated the action as the school of fish continued on its path, oblivious to the woman partially blocking their way.

As she returned to shore with the net bag filled with four nice sized fish, she noticed dark shapes pacing near the shelter. After leaving the water, she could hear low growls and scraping as one of the creatures tried digging under the door. Anger filled her as she grabbed her jeans, tossing them over her shoulder along with the cord of the bag. _'How dare they threaten David,_ ' she thought angrily. Her spear was shifted between her hands as she stalked toward the creatures, attempting to find a comfortable grip on the unfamiliar weapon, at least this particular weapon. ' _Two of them,_ ' she thought, ' _wolves,_ ' she identified, ' _from earlier,_ ' she questioned. When she was about twenty feet away, the pair turned toward her. She raised the spear and took aim at the larger animal, but before she could throw it, the beast launched himself toward her. She thrust the spear into its chest, hearing a deep cry as it went down. The second wolf attacked next. In a moment of desperation, she yanked the spear back and struck out again. Her aim wasn't as true this time and the now dulled point only grazed the wolf but turned it enough that she could get a second attempt. This time, she struck the wolf's head and rammed the spear almost clean through. Spider shook in a combination of fear, exhaustion, and cold before drawing her knife from its sheath and calmly skinned the two wolves. Their meat was useless to her, but those furs would be valuable. She dragged the carcasses away and left them near the sheer cliff face. The beach was almost completely dark as the sun dipped below the horizon. Slight flashes of flames from inside the shelter guided her back. She quickly rolled up the furs; they could be stretched and worked tomorrow. She gathered her fish and the spear and carried everything into the shelter.

David had awakened while she was gone and had heard the wolves for a moment before silence fell over everything. He watched Spider come in and his mouth dropped open as the wolf furs were tossed into the opposite corner and the blood-coated spear was leaned against the wall near the entrance. She was visibly shaking as she fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands. "Melanie," he called out softly. He tried moving, but whether because of the drugs or his own weakness, he made no progress. "Melanie," he tried to call to her again.

Spider was unaware of David's voice, only her pain penetrated her mind. Her back still screamed in agony from the puncture wounds she'd suffered, but when she'd fallen, she'd ripped her knee open to the bone. She'd battered her already exhausted muscles by working all day. The pain medication had removed any obstacle pain provided but now the obstacle was even worse. She was unaware of the tears pouring down her face as she struggled to sit on her heels. Several minutes passed while all she did was shake and rock on her heels, holding herself. The burning of her back finally broke through everything and she grabbed at the fabric of her shirt, skipping the step of unbuttoning it and instead ripping it up and over her head. The action tore away the scabs and blood flowed freely from the now reopened injuries. She'd never developed enough of a chest to actually bother with a bra, so she sat, shaking, her upper body bare of anything but blood. The water in the pan boiled over, sending up steam and a sharp sizzle from the rock, drawing her attention from within her mind. She pulled it away quickly, not wanting to risk damaging the cooking stone. She swept the coals from under it.

Many minutes passed as David tried to get her attention, calling her name and still struggling against his own weaknesses. His voice finally broke through Spider's thoughts and she turned toward the man. It took her several minutes to process what he was saying and even more to crawl over to him. "Are you okay?" His voice was tinged with fear. On the plane, he'd realized that the injuries to her back were significant, but seeing how serious they really were brought him close to panic. He had to wonder how she'd gotten to him in the ocean, then moved him into the raft and the shelter, as well as everything she'd done in between and since. He looked toward the door and frowned as he saw a fish flop inside a net. "Melanie?"

"Yes. That's me." She paused before reaching to check David's pulse at his neck. The woman looked into his eyes, brushed fingers over his nose and face, then finished with a test of temperature of his hands as well as his pulses. "I got something for dinner." She returned to the fire, pulled over the laundry bag, and began pulling out fish. After quickly dispatching and cleaning them, she grabbed a skillet from the chef case and rubbed the inside of the skin on the bottom and sides. A quick slice split the first fish into a pair of fillets that were placed in the bottom of the pan. The fillets only took a few minutes on each side to cook and she repeated the process with the remaining three fish. She filled a plate with the cooked fish and came over to David's side once more. She sat him up and leaned him against her body. "Eat." She slowly fed him most of the fish before propping him up on the remaining pillows and blankets from the airplane. She ate the last few bites of the fish before setting everything aside to wash in the morning. She raised her head when David called to her again; her gray eyes vacant as she looked back. She wavered before reaching for the still warm water, quickly washing herself off before tossing it out the door, latching it securely.

"Melanie?" The woman looked toward him. He wasn't sure she recognized him. She looked exhausted, her eyes were rimmed in red, and she was hunched over, ' _in pain,_ ' he realized. He gave himself a mental head slap, ' _of course she's in pain. I can't believe she can move at all with those injuries._ ' He thought about what little he knew about her and what he believed he could infer from her actions. ' _She's a caretaker, a protector. Give her a purpose. An action she can perform for another individual,_ ' his mind offered. "Melanie, I'm cold." Her eyes cleared a little and she moved toward him. She looked worried as she brushed her fingers over his face. She shifted most of the pillows aside, allowing him to lay flat. He watched her return to the fire to add more wood. It was built up enough that he thought it might burn all night. She returned to his side opposite the fire and laid down, careful not to disturb his left arm. She shifted the blankets until she was partially covered and draped her left arm over his chest, her right found its way under his neck. She moved her body until she was able to cradle his head against her throat and torso. "Thank you." She was already asleep and the man's quiet, gentle words didn't cause her to react. David's sleep was longer in coming. The woman was ice cold and wasn't shivering. At first she caused him to become chilled, but as night progressed, they both warmed up. Once Spider started shivering, she began radiating warmth causing David to relax, the tension he'd felt disappeared completely and he drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little shelter described in this chapter took me just over 55 minutes to build using the mentioned "tools" and supplies. The guitar strings were obnoxious, but they actually did work. I've built camping buildings like this since I was a little kid, but it was a new experience to use such limited materials.
> 
> The descriptions of David's leg and shoulder injuries match those of a fellow skydiver who failed to strike water in a proper body position. Additional damage was added to reflect what would have occurred during the breakup of the aircraft. Spider's injuries are inspired by my own when I was caught in an explosion of a barn many years ago.
> 
> Tib/Fib fracture = a fracture that involves both bones of the lower leg (the tibia and fibula)


	4. December 3, 1987 - Proclaimed Power, Safety, & Security

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowledge is power: Spider takes steps to find out the truth of their new surroundings. The possibility of discovering supplies, food other than fish, and hopefully a safer and more secure shelter help move the pair into a stronger position for surviving the winter ahead. Sometimes amazing discoveries occur exactly when they are required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning I should have posted before: Don't try this at home. The situations described in this story hold a high risk of danger and possible death.

~~~~~

December 3, 1987

When David awoke the next morning, he discovered that he was alone in the shelter. He glanced around trying to take better stock of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed brought a chuckle to his lips: his bright red pants were hanging on a clothes line fashioned out of a guitar string. The socks and Melanie's shirt were hanging from the original. Twelve guitar cases were lined up against the far wall, stacked in front of them were numerous pieces of luggage and cargo containers, many of them open. Near his head, the medical cases rested neatly on their short edges, keeping them organized and out of the way, yet easily accessible if their contents were needed. There were several pans near the fire, almost touching the flames. Most were steaming from the liquids they contained. The air held several unusual scents, but one he recognized: pine. His gaze was drawn from his investigation when the woman entered the space. She had to stoop because the ceiling, or roof, was too low to accommodate her height.

"Good morning, David," she said softly. Her voice seemed scratchy as if she'd strained her vocal cords. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. I only ache. Although my right leg feels funny." A concerned expression crossed the woman's face and she dropped the net bag she carried before taking the few steps to his side. "Melanie, I'm sure it's fine." She ignored his comment and flipped the blanket away from his leg, checking the color and pulse of his foot. He watched her actions as best as he could, straining his neck so he could see what she was doing. "Really, Melanie."

"Hush," her gentle word a mild command.

"Shouldn't that be sh," David said with a smile.

"What?" Spider looked confused for a minute as she processed his prompt. "Maybe you'd prefer 'Oh baby, just you shut your mouth'?" Her voice mimicked his tone and cadence from China Girl perfectly.

David smiled at the woman. She seemed in better spirits this morning. ' _At least she isn't crying or rocking on her knees,_ ' he admitted. His life was completely dependent on her right now. That was one fact his mind had grasped the night before. "How do you feel?"

The woman looked away and stuttered a few words he didn't understand. "I'm sorry about last night. My behavior was inappropriate." She'd been shocked when she woke up curled around the singer and both of them were naked. She knew why he was sans clothing, but couldn't remember why she was as well.

"Melanie," David said softly, "you did nothing wrong." He frowned when she didn't turn back to him. He realized that he'd already become used to being the single focal point of her universe. "I knew you were injured on the plane. Until last night, I didn't realize how serious those injuries were." That did draw her gaze back to him. "I can't believe you're able to move around and take care of me."

"I made a promise. I keep my promises."

"Always?"

"If there is any way I can, yes."

"You're amazing," he said softly causing her to frown and look away with a sharp shake of her head. "What?"

"I'm not amazing. I'm just me," she stuttered a little between the words although they were clear. "Ah, see I'm not amazing," she said with certainty as she adjusted the brace on his leg.

She made another slight adjustment to the straps and David gasped as pins and needles shot up his leg.

"I'm sorry. Your circulation was partially cut off. Always tell me if something feels 'not quite right'. It might be nothing, like you were saying before, but it might be something." She watched the slight shift of his expression and the dawning understanding in his eyes. She'd never realized how expressive his eyes truly were; even the permanently dilated one reflected his emotions and thoughts. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I'm actually more thirsty though."

"I forgot to give you something to drink last night. Again, I'm sorry." Spider went to their dwindling supply of bottled water and brought one over to him. Locating fresh, potable water was a priority for the day. If she had to desalinate ocean water, she knew how to do it, as she'd done earlier in the morning to get water to wash his pants, but it was time consuming and bothersome. After settling him against her torso, she opened the bottle and slowly helped him drink its contents. "A little better?"

David's cheeks flamed up in embarrassment. "Um, yes, but it created another problem." He hesitated only a moment before he felt Spider nod her head against his. He closed his eyes tightly as she propped him against the pillows and several cases like she had the evening before. She moved around before kneeling in front of him; he had no choice but to open his eyes and look at her.

"As the kids say, number one or number two?"

"Huh?" He saw no embarrassment in her expression and perhaps a little hope. "Number one. I think." He wasn't that familiar with American slang but could make an educated guess as to what she was referring. He was surprised when she smiled. "Oh, that's perverted." The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Immediately his embarrassment deepened but she just chuckled.

"Not perverted. Your lower back is deeply bruised. The fact that you have the urge to urinate is a significant development, medically. It means that your kidneys are healthy enough to produce urine. I was getting worried," she admitted. "If your kidneys were damaged enough that they failed, I have no way to perform dialysis under these circumstances. You would die a slow, painful death and there would be nothing more I could do than attempt to keep you comfortable."

The man looked horrified for a moment before his embarrassment seemed to disappear. "I'm sorry for inferring you were a pervert." He watched the woman reach for a urinal and uncap it.

Spider paused in her actions for a moment and glanced away. "I might still be a pervert, just not that type of pervert," she finally offered as she shifted the blankets off his body, resting them on his legs. "Are you okay with me helping you?"

David nodded his head. "Yes. I don't have much of a choice." He held up his heavily braced and bandaged left arm and hand.

"At least for a couple of weeks," she said as she reached for his penis, placing the tip in the urinal. She tried to keep her touch as neutral as possible. She'd seen his earlier embarrassment and didn't want to make things worse. After he finished, she reached for a wet towel and cleaned away any residue before covering his lower body with the blankets again. She capped the container and was relieved not to see visible blood in the waste, although it appeared to be very concentrated. A mental note to make him drink more water was made in a corner of her brain before she placed the container near the door.

' _At least my body behaved,_ ' the singer thought. He'd always been extremely sexually oriented ever since discovering sex for the first time. He loved the physical contact and relished in bringing pleasure to others, but it could cause problems for him in situations that shouldn't be sexually stimulating. He startled when he became aware of the woman's quiet question of if he was hungry or could eat now. "Uh, yes." He glanced toward the door and spotted additional fish. "Fish again?" They were not one of his favorite foods. Although under the circumstances, he probably couldn't be choosy.

"Unfortunately," the woman said with a grimace. "I really do not like fish, but they are easy to catch."

"They really are fishy." David's joke made them both laugh. The woman continued chuckling as she went to the fish and started cleaning them. In less than thirty minutes she had a plate filled with fried up fillets and brought them and another bottle of water over to where he sat. He looked at the single plate and wondered what she was going to eat. "Aren't you eating?"

"I'll eat what ever is left over."

The blond frowned a little as Spider lifted a forkful of fish and offered it to him. "You need to eat, Melanie." She nodded and moved the fork a little closer to his mouth. He ate the bite, chewing it carefully before swallowing it. As fish went, it was really tasty. "Fresh fish. It makes a difference." He accepted another bite.

"Caught fresh about an hour ago."

He looked up in surprise. "How long have you been up?"

"A couple of hours," she answered. "I'd like to get something accomplished today. Maybe find some better food than fish."

He chuckled as another forkful of fish was shoveled into his mouth. After swallowing it, he shook his head. "If you can't, don't worry, the fish is okay."

"Just okay? I need to become a better cook."

It took David a minute before he realized she was joking. Her expression hadn't really changed, although her vocal cadence had shifted slightly. ' _People probably have difficulty with her when she tells jokes. She's so deadpan that you can't tell when she's joking unless you're paying attention to her word choices and tone._ ' He'd been told he had an unusual sense of humor but his problem tended to be the inappropriateness of his jokes or poor timing. His humor was typically dry, but he had developed a habit of self-depreciation that took some getting used to. He realized that Spider had appeared to 'get' his sense of humor earlier, when he referenced China Girl, without problems and had attempted to hit him right back. In between somewhat distracted bites of fish, he accepted sips of water. "No more," he said as he shook his head, "I couldn't eat another bite." He glanced toward the plate and realized he'd eaten almost all of the fish. He'd meant to stop himself sooner so she would eat more. ' _Too late now,_ ' he admitted silently.

"Okay, maybe one more sip of water?" Spider leaned forward a little. When he shook his head, she smiled and recapped the bottle. She ate the last few scraps of fish and spared a thought that maybe she'd have some luck finding something else to eat. Fish was not the most appealing item on the menu under any situation in her opinion. After placing the plate and silverware in an open cargo case, she ladled out a mug of pine scented liquid from one of the simmering pans. "But, I do want you to drink this. It's a drink," remembering at the last minute that David hated tea and refused to drink it, "made from pine needles. It has vitamin C in it and will help you stay strong while you're healing."

David grimaced and shook his head. Even the thought of drinking something made from a pine tree seemed wrong somehow. "A pine tree?"

"Every part of a pine tree is actually edible. There are different techniques used for preparing the roots, bark, inner wood, needles, etc, but it can supply most supportive nutritional needs." She moved to sit next to his torso and pulled him closer until he leaned against her shoulder. "At least try it. It is a little sweet, so think of it as a dessert."

The man groaned deep in his throat and shook his head. He chuckled a little as he realized he was acting like a child. "Okay. One sip." He hated tea and even though she hadn't used that word, what she described sounded a lot like tea. She placed the mug against his lower lip and waited for him to open his mouth. She poured a little of the liquid into his mouth, just a sip like he'd requested, and he swished the drink around tasting it. Several of his teeth hurt and he grimaced against the pain, but discovered that the tea had a very sweet almost minty taste to it. It was pleasant. "Some more," he prompted and quickly finished the rest of the mug.

Spider moved away and set the cup down before looking at David's face more closely. The right side of his face was still more swollen than she thought it should be and his grimace had not escaped her notice. "David, do your teeth hurt? Your mouth? Jaw?" He nodded and she waited patiently.

"Teeth. My jaw hurts, too, but something hit me on the plane. I think it's just bruised." She nodded at his assessment. She hadn't found any fractures in his jaw, but he did have bruising. "My teeth feel sharp."

"May I take a look?"

He thought for a moment before nodding. "I've had problems with my teeth before, but this feels different. I've thought about having my teeth fixed."

"What's wrong with your teeth? They're cute." She smiled at him.

"They're crooked. And, to quote some magazine guy, very British," he shook his head as he remembered some other comments that writer had made.

"I'm not sure what he meant by 'very British', there are people all over the world who have less than straight teeth. Brits do not have exclusivity in that department. Some countries do have a weird obsession about straight teeth or so called perfect teeth. My belief is if your teeth bother you, say they bleed at night or cause problems with speech or eating, do something about them. Otherwise, your teeth are perfect as is and simply enjoy a great feature that's unique to you. Trust me, perfection is overrated." She smiled.

"That's easy for you to say. Your teeth are perfect."

"My teeth are not perfect," Spider said softly. At David's glare, she cut off his words with a shake of her head. "They're not my teeth." She reached up and with a click removed her upper partial plate. When she smiled again, there was a gap where her front teeth and canines should have been and a glance at the partial showed they weren't the only teeth that had replacements. He watched in horror as she snapped the appliance back in place and looked at him.

"What happened?" Inside, he was cursing himself for his thoughtless assumption.

She shook her head and looked at the ground. When he prompted her again, she looked up and sighed. "To make a long story short, my parents knocked them out. Most of my adult teeth were completely knocked out or damaged so badly they had to eventually be pulled. Uppers and lowers." She didn't bother showing him the second plate; she knew he'd believe her.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't knock them out."

David sighed softly and shook his head sadly. "No, I made an assumption and made you remember."

"I remember all the time. I choose to ignore it." She touched his right arm and waited for him to look at her. "I wish I had my old teeth back. They were crooked with a space in the front on the bottom and a pair of twisted ones on top. It was great for whistling. I actually liked my teeth. When I asked for partials that duplicated the originals, I was told that there was no way they would provide less than 'perfect' replacements. I didn't think my teeth were less than perfect. I really did love them just the way they were. I miss them. They were unique and I always thought they looked special."

He laughed with her. "Still," he began, not really sure what to say. "My teeth sometimes bleed at night. They have for years."

The woman frowned and nodded. "But, they're worse now? More pain? Aching?" He nodded. "Let me check. She grabbed a small flashlight out of the pharmacy case and clicked it on before indicating for David to open his mouth. "Were several of your teeth broken?" He closed his mouth and shook his head. "They are now. You have three fractured upper molars on the right side. A single lower molar is broken off just above the gum line. A couple of teeth are chipped on the left side, but they appear to be older injuries."

"George," David said softly. "I tried stealing his girl."

"George," Spider whispered as she thought about the man's history. "Isn't he the one who damaged your eye?" The singer nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried stealing his girl."

"I thought she was beautiful and wanted her for myself."

"Okay, I understand that, but David, I read somewhere that you were only hit once. If he damaged your eye and those teeth with a single strike, you were out-gunned."

"Yeah. Fighting is not my strong suit." He blushed a little. "It never has been."

"The fractured teeth and the one broken off at the gum line should be pulled. I have no way of repairing them here. There is a dental kit in the case." When David appeared ready to disagree, she continued, "leaving them in opens you to possible infection and further pain. Eventually they will interfere with eating and drinking. Pulling them would only involve injections directly in the mouth, a few minutes for the medication to take effect, and a few minutes for removal. Healing would take longer, typically a couple of weeks until they are fully healed, but the pain would disappear immediately."

David sighed and knew she was right. "Now?"

"How about tonight or tomorrow? I'd really like to get a better look at the surrounding area." She leaned forward a little. "Will you be okay here by yourself? I'll build up the fire some more and I've put a protective barrier on the door to prevent anything from digging in, quickly at least." She knew that with enough time something could find a way around almost any barrier.

"You're leaving?" His voice held a hint of fear. Her behavior last night had made him realize just how dependent he was on her.

"I'm not going far. I want to climb to a higher point and see if I can find evidence indicative of people. When I was fishing this morning, I found the remnants of a dock. It was extensive and could have handled a very large yacht or small ocean-going ship. I'm hoping maybe there will be a cabin, shed, or other structure near here. Something more substantial as protection." He thought the little shelter was substantial. It was certainly comfortable. "We need to know if this is an island or if we're connected to land in some way. If the latter, I can build a travois or other means of transporting you and attempt to reach an area that is populated."

"If we ARE on an island?"

"We will have that information and plan accordingly."

David didn't ask for further information. He knew their supplies were limited and winter was definitely closing in. Even inside the shelter, he could feel the chill when the wind blew hard. He thought about her earlier words about locating a structure that offered more protection; he now understood what she meant. ' _If we're not located before winter closes in, we have to be prepared to survive until spring. She's not saying something. Something important._ ' He sat up as straight as he could with his damaged torso and cleared his throat. "Melanie, what aren't you telling me. Shouldn't rescue know where to find us? They'll have information from the crash that will give them a starting location. After that, it's a matter of following the current, right?"

"It's not that simple, David. The ELS on the plane was out even before it crashed. Radar was gone. I have no idea where we're located right now. Maybe I can find a geographic point that I can identify from a higher location. Most of the electronics on the plane were useless." She saw his face fall. He was intelligent enough to understand the problem they were facing. "If a ship or plane comes upon debris on the surface of the ocean, it may give a clue to our location, but where we went down, there were two distinct currents running in opposite directions. If the searchers don't realize that piece of information, they may only follow the second current." She shook her head slightly. She hated to cause him worry, but she refused to lie to him. "If we are discovered and rescued, I believe it will be chance or luck, not through normal channels." A flash of panic raced over his face, marring his beautiful features. "But, David, we have no reason to give up. Even if this is an island and no other land is within visual range, there are animals here. I have knowledge of primitive skills; I teach, taught," she corrected herself, "a course at Columbia Medical on the Effects of Primitive Medicine and Nutrition on Longevity."

"That's how you knew how to build this cabin."

"It's not a cabin, but at fifteen, I completed a doctorate in architecture. Give me the tools and enough time and I can design and build a skyscraper or medieval castle. If I wanted to, at least. It was a way of killing time while I finished my medical degree." She shrugged. "Like I said, I am an over-educated nerd."

"So am I," David admitted. "I just taught myself. School was boring most of the time. I ended up in a technical program because I didn't excel academically." He scoffed at a personal memory. "I'm not even sure I passed the 11-Plus exam at all. They may have placed me at a technical school because there was no one else who would take me."

"You just said it, 'school was boring most of the time.' You needed more than a structured, time bracketed program. You're an autodidact: self educator. In some ways even though I have tons of degrees, I'm also an autodidact. I self-directed my learning processes and almost never showed up for classes. I went the first day to get the syllabus and make contact with the professor, then only showed up for exams and to submit papers or other required work. Many professors actually appreciated my lack of attendance because I made no attempt to hide that I found incompetence to be beneath me and I was willing to correct mistakes the professors made in the open, in front of the class."

"Ah, yeah, that wouldn't have gone over very well," he smiled and chuckled as he thought of the reaction some of his instructors at Bromley would have had.

"Still, I find it strange that you didn't excel. You're intelligent and well read." She paused a moment as she thought about what he'd told her. "A few questions. The 11-Plus? Is that a placement exam?" He nodded. "You attended a Technical Academy."

"A technical high school," he clarified.

"I'm American, and am not familiar with the British school system. I understand a little about the current system, but not within historical frameworks. I would assume that a technical high school would be a high placement academically with a focus on scientific subjects such as mathematics, biology, chemistry, etc. The way you speak about the results of your testing and placement makes me think my assumption is incorrect."

"Technical high schools were supposed to be a way of training a student to enter the work force immediately upon graduation. We were taught basic skills: entry level mathematics for being a clerk, visual forms for creating advertisements or newspaper dailies, even basic farming and construction skills for those jobs. I was lucky, Bromley had some forward thinkers who didn't embrace the idea that we were the lowest-grade of student and provided courses that would normally only be found in grammar or secondary programs. For instance, we had a strong musical program and our visual arts courses went beyond cutting articles into sections to create that perfect above the fold headline or a print ad for selling new shoes. We also had courses in Latin, English, and the humanities."

"So, a full curriculum." He nodded. "For some reason, I'm having difficulty seeing you in construction or farming classes." Spider fought back a chuckle, not wanting to offend him.

"Neither could the people who ran the school. I'm useless at it." He gave a single shoulder shrug. "At least I was then. I can paint walls." He smiled.

"But can't paint a crib," Spider offered.

"Exactly." David nodded. "Angie finally took over that project and made it work." He thought about Spider's earlier question and why she needed to do this and sighed. "I'll be okay here while you find some answers for us. But, just could you release my right arm. I can get myself a drink or go to the bathroom while you're gone."

"You must not use the arm normally, David. It needs time to heal."

"I'll just sit here and not move it unless I have to."

"Okay. If something would delay me, you should be able to get water and I'll rinse out the urinal so you have access to it." She started to stand and paused while still on one knee. "I'll leave you a few candy bars, too. If I open the wrappers you should be able to do the rest."

The blond nodded and smiled.

"But, I'm not releasing your arm until right before I leave. If your shoulder dislocates again, it'll be an even longer recovery process and it may never fully heal if the damage is great enough." Spider finished standing and got a second bottle of water to go with the first partial bottle already resting near the singer. She added several little candy bars after she tore their wrappers, then opened the water and recapped it loosely. She left the shelter for a short period of time and returned with the empty urinal and placed that next to him as well. The screw on lid was loosened so he could open it easily. "You will be all right?" When David nodded, she unwrapped the arm and shifted it slightly. His grimace let her know it was still painful and hoped that pain would minimize his movements. "I'm planning on being gone only a few hours at most. If I see evidence of people, I'll come back right away to update you."

"Okay. Take care of yourself and hurry back." He wasn't sure what else to say. After the woman exited the shelter, he shook his head and released an irritated sigh, ' _I should have wished her luck finding people._ '

Spider grabbed her spear, knife, and backpack; she'd placed a bottle of water and an old pouch of jerky from one of her guitar cases inside along with the guitar string saw and a small pocket knife. She slung the spear over one shoulder; she'd attached a length of cord to it so it didn't have to be carried all the time. The backpack hung on her other shoulder. Her boots had dried and were again on her feet. She knew she'd told David that she was going to climb the cliff-face nearest their position, but there was a second rocky outcrop to her left that appeared to be as tall and had a level top. She just didn't immediately see a way to reach the top easily. The outcropping to the right might be steep, but there was a switchback trail clearly leading to the top.

It took close to thirty minutes to reach the top of the ridge and she was amazed to see the panoramic view below her. "An island," she whispered toward the wilderness and ocean all around her. There was no other land visible as far as she could see. The horizon appeared completely clear as well, no ships or wakes. The sky was again darkening. Yesterday's storm had struck overnight, but hadn't left any major damage in it's wake: just some downed branches, a few dislocated boughs on the shelter, and washed up debris on the shore. After sighing over the fulfillment of her suspicion, she turned her attention to the island itself. The land was varied: additional rocky outcroppings were scattered around, open areas of grassland surrounded by forests, an area that seemed to contain short hillocks, and at least one large lake covered the region. She mentally attempted to figure out how big the area was. She shook her head as she realized it would take her at least three days to walk to the other side of the island. "Maybe twenty to thirty miles across and even more than that wide?"

Several man-made structures were visible less than a mile from her position. They didn't appear to be cabins, instead maybe hunting shelters or storage sheds. She smiled at the thought of finding supplies. There were numerous trails cutting through the forest, probably from animals. The land was wild, exciting, and beautiful, but she could feel the danger that underscored it all. For a moment, she imagined that this is what the entire planet had been like during the prehistoric age she tried recreating in her classes. She always failed then because there were airplanes passing overhead and sounds from the nearest highways could still be heard at numerous points even in the remote acreage. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back: she strained to hear everything she could and heard nothing but the sounds of nature: ocean waves lapping at the shore, birds squawking, a moose called out, an elk cried, the yipping of a fox floated over it all. She opened her eyes and for an instant felt disoriented by the enormity of everything; the idea that she would have to prepare for what felt like a possibly long winter felt overwhelming. Worse, she had no idea if David would be able to fully recover from his injuries. He could still lose his left arm if the bones didn't heal and even if they did, he may be in so much pain that he would have very little use of it. "First things, first," she ordered herself, pushing all doubts aside.

She took a step to return to the trail to descend to the beach and then she was going to explore those sheds. They were close enough she should be able to reach them quickly. Her gaze was drawn to the other rocky outcrop and she gasped when she realized there appeared to be a dark hole leading into it. She wondered if it could be a cave, someplace secure and protective. She looked at the area more closely and still couldn't figure out a way to reach it without free-climbing the rocky face. There wasn't time to do that today, but maybe in the near future she'd attempt it. It took about ten minutes to reach the bottom of the hill, slipping and sliding part of the way, but she knew the path now. She set off for the metal buildings and twenty minutes later had located them. It was evident that whatever purpose they had been built to fulfill was no longer possible. The bottoms of the metal walls had rusted and rotted away in places. No one had been there to maintain them for at least a decade and maybe more. She easily broke the lock on the first shed and was disappointed by what was left of the interior. The shed had once held a table with chairs and large wood burning oven with a cook top and baking compartment. She did look inside and was surprised to discover the heavy grate was still in perfect condition. She lifted the heavy metal out of the remains of ashes and looked it over, shaking her head. It would be a lot safer than the flat rock she was using to cook on. After searching through the rest of the space, she exited it, glancing toward the sky as a dark cloud raced past and a gust of wind brought the howls of wolves to her ears.

She entered the second shed and spotted another wood burner, adding another rack to the first. This shed must have been used as a cleaning station. There was a pair of short metal tables where one could kneel and cut up game or clean fish. She thought about taking them with her although she had no immediate idea of how she could carry them. There were a few other items that could be useful: an ax with a broken handle, several metal hinge-traps in varying sizes, a spool of metal wiring, and what she thought of as her best find yet, inside a rusty cabinet a pair of perfect leather boots hanging from a hook. They were a size 13 men's, so too large for her, but she would swear that David's boots were a size 13. "Damn these would be more useful than those red things," she said to the empty shed. She tied the boot laces together and connected them to her backpack using one of the carabiners. Next to the pack, she added the pair of grates and dropped the spool of wiring on top of them before she broke off the remaining portion of the ax handle and added it as well.

The third shed appeared in slightly better condition compared to the first two and she wasn't disappointed when she entered it. Inside were several intact cabinets. One was empty, but the other two contained an assortment of additional traps, brand new spools of wire, wool blankets and socks, a massive toolbox filled with an assortment of tools and hardware, and her new best find yet, an actual grilling grate for an open fire. She was disappointed to find the tattered remains of a large stock of clothing and towels and what had once been a quilt and a tent packed in a tube, but the wood burner grate was still intact and she added it to the other two. Several metal frame backpacks had long ago rotted away, but the frames could be repurposed. She dug through the small kitchen stuffed into a corner and found three cast iron skillets, still in good condition. They would need to be oiled and flame fired to completely restore their surfaces, but she could do that once she killed an animal fattened up for the winter. She was disappointed to find a generator and small radio room, both of which had disintegrated years before. Still these were man-made items which meant that men had been there in the past. What came before, could come again if enough time passed.

She looked at all the gear she'd found and knew she couldn't carry it all. She'd left David for much longer than she'd planned to, and she was starting to worry. The wind was really picking up, lifting and swirling funnels of leaves; she could feel the temperature drop with each gust. The air felt damp and she wasn't sure if the resulting precipitation would be rain or snow. Deciding what to take with her was going to be difficult and she wished she could take it all. She stuffed all the socks into her pack. They were tube socks so should fit either David or her and would be extremely warm. She sighed and shook her head, again looking around, hoping a large wagon or cart would suddenly appear to transport everything away. With the locks broken, anything that remained could be damaged by animals or just dragged into the woods by the same. "Spider, you're an idiot," she said with a snort as she remembered telling David that she'd transport him if she saw evidence of human population. "A travois." She spotted two trees of equal thickness as well as a patch of cattails. It took her close to thirty minutes to fell the trees and build cross-pieces from the dry stalks of the cattails, but once it took shape, she was confident that she could transport everything she'd found.

A scuffle on the other side of the first shed she'd investigated drew her attention and she quickly grabbed her spear before going to see what was happening. She saw a small wolf pack, only seven animals, standing over a medium sized elk they'd brought down, but they were being attacked by two wolverines. One of the vicious creatures grabbed a wolf by a rear leg and snapped the bones with a loud crack. Down to six, the wolves gave ground and relinquished their kill to the two stubby aggressive creatures. Spider wasn't a wolf and she had something they didn't: a strategic mind. The elk was a fresh kill and the hide hadn't been damaged much. Her mouth watered as she thought about the delicious taste of elk. She would make room on the travois for it. With a smile, she reached for the remains of one of the trees she'd used for the long legs of the travois and quickly carved the tip into a sharp point before stalking toward the wolverines which were toying with the injured wolf. It was weakening due to pain and blood loss, but was still trying to fight. Its damaged leg was almost gnawed away from repeated bites by the wolverines. She paused and had to admire the creature still fighting for its life even though all hope was lost; there was no way for it to survive without major medical intervention. She shook her head as the creature's throat was ripped out, ending its battle. It was a darker shade of gray, almost charcoal, compared to the wolves she'd killed the previous evening.

Spider hissed through her teeth, drawing the attention of the wolverines. She stalked toward the creatures, one spear slung over her shoulder within easy reach. The other spear held ready to be thrown or thrust. This new spear was significantly lighter than her original and she knew she could throw it; her biggest question was if she could launch it with enough force to kill something. Her mind tossed out again that she needed a force multiplier if she wanted to be truly effective. One wolverine appeared to hesitate, but the other launched itself at her. She thrust the spear into its open mouth until it exited the back of the throat. The other animal hissed at her and stalked over to the first as Spider yanked the spear free before backing away slightly to find more solid footing. She'd stepped forward into scratched soil that was slippery. It would not make a good position to launch a spear from. The remaining wolverine sniffed at its partner in crime, coming away with a bloody muzzle. It lowered its head and advanced on the lone human. For a moment, Spider recognized what a precarious situation she was in. She could almost smell her own fear and knew she was radiating it toward the creature.

She gave way a single step before catching herself. A sudden calm passed over her and she was no longer afraid. She'd already killed one wolverine and she was positive she could take out another. The shift in her mental status confused the creature which took another step forward, but paused when the bipedal animal didn't give way. It glanced toward the other wolverine before it continued advancing. ' _Come get me,_ ' Spider thought as the creature's eyes became more and more in focus. She knew that a strike to that point would be a certain kill that would drop the animal instantly, but it was a tiny target. This new spear was untested as a thrown weapon. She waited patiently for the creature to come a little closer. She wanted to be certain of a kill. Patience paid off as the wolverine lost its own inner battle and launched itself at her. Spider had seen the tightening of the creature's muscles, the slight shift in the hindquarters a moment before launch; her strike met the animal's eye at the top of its jump. She stood tall and threw her head back before letting out a primal scream. She recognized the sound for what it was: power being proclaimed, but she wondered why she felt the need to release it. She'd killed larger prey before during the summer program, although not as dangerous. Her mind offered, ' _you weren't alone then,_ ' as she bowed her head and drew a sharp breath.

After shrugging off her pack, she used her military knife to quickly skin the two wolverines. Their meat was disgusting, but the fur was wonderful to protect against ice build up on parkas. She knew many pieces of very expensive winter wear was edged with the fur from the creatures, usually marked as "artificial" fur. The wolf fur was added to the pile. If she could get enough, she'd make David a winter parka. He seemed especially sensitive to the cold: whether due to his thin build or normal body chemistry she didn't know. He'd need something to wear outside if he recovered from his injuries. The original wolf-kill showed how efficient the four-legged hunters were, the stomach and throat were ripped out, no other injuries were necessary to bring down the young buck. She didn't bother skinning the creature, only gutted it and tossed aside the portions that had no use. It took little effort to drag the travois over and to unload it. She rolled the elk onto the frame and quickly added the grates and grill, traps, toolbox, wire, blankets, tables, and other gear, topping it all off with the furs, then securing it as well as she could with a length of the wire. She placed herself behind the cross bar she'd added near the front of the travois so she could brace it at her waist and push into it. One spear and the backpack hung from her shoulders, the other she wedged between the crossbeam and her body. It took a great deal of force to start the heavy load moving but with each step it became easier as she kept up momentum.

"That's how," she gasped out as she struggled to bring the contrivance to a stop. She had just moved around the rocky outcropping she'd been entranced by. On the opposite edge of it, mostly hidden by the few trees still holding onto their leaves and their accompanying underbrush, was a gradual incline almost four feet wide. At first glance it looked man-made, but the irregularities from weather and use proved it was created by nature, or was extremely old if made by men's hands. She was torn between returning to David as soon as possible and investigating the dark hole she'd seen from the top of the cliff. The next gust of wind caused her to remember her first thought at the sight of 'a cave'. If it was empty and dry, it could provide a level of protection that the small shelter couldn't. She looked toward the water and saw that the tide was coming in strongly. The water was dark with large white caps. She released a deep breath that escaped in a cloud of vapor; the temperature was dropping even more. The knowledge that the little shelter would not provide enough protection if it snowed and became colder helped make up her mind. She settled the travois as close to the bottom of the incline as she could before cutting down several pine boughs and pressing them into the pitch that seeped from the resulting wounds. She then lit them with a lighter from her backpack. With the torch held high and the lighter spear held in hand, she climbed the gentle grade and reached the top within minutes. She reached a large level area almost fifteen feet deep and at least thirty feet long. To her left were steps carved into the rock so one could easily reach the flat top. There were no tool marks and they were weather worn, so the construction was extremely old, probably centuries or millennium back in history or prehistory. At a near right angle, there was another ledge, not quite as deep, only ten feet or so, but almost three times as long, reaching out more than one hundred feet with a sheer drop at the short end as well as the long side.

The black hole was almost disappointing from this close. What had appeared to be a large opening was less than four feet wide and was slightly angled into the ledge she was standing on. Still, it was worth investigating. It might lead no where. Although the steps leading to the level top made her wonder if there was more to this sight than met the eye. She moved toward the opening slowly, listening for anything emanating from within, scuffling sounds or breathing, something that would indicate the presence of life. The pine bough gave off a strong odor, but even more it gave off light. The opening was about six feet high and she had to duck to enter, but the darkness from within didn't hold any warmth or sound. The claustrophobic feeling disappeared five feet inside the space, after a slight shift to the right, the ceiling rose to almost seven and a half feet tall and as the light of the branches lit the space she found it difficult to breathe. The first thing she saw wasn't the size, the flat, dry floor, the pool of water fed by a spring-fed waterfall, the circle of hearth stones, the opening into an even deeper space; no, what she saw was the panoramic cave painting. It took her breath away and she felt a strong shiver race down her back as the hair stood up all over her body. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Even the little amount of heat radiating from the pine bough was enough to steal the chill from the space. After several minutes, she forced herself to investigate the rest of the cave, almost afraid of what she would find. The dark opening led to a second smaller space, but the ring of stones showed that it must have been used as a hearth at one time. There was another opening to her left that led to a cold, dark room with no stones, but there were pieces of rock on the floor near the walls, along with what appeared to be biological debris. This space had been inhabited at one time. She was certain of that. Returning to the front space, she thought about what she was looking at. The panorama grabbed her attention again and she moved to it, touching the stone. There was a feeling of antiquity to it. She shook her head over the idea that this could be a prehistoric painting. She scraped at the edge of one of the black bison creatures and looked at her fingernail. It looked like magnesium oxide and the shades of red, yellow, and orange appeared to be various colors of ochre.

Spider stepped back and tried to take in the full scene. There were men with spears, a herd of bison, and in the distance, a suggestion of a mammoth. If it wasn't authentic, it was one of the most amazing forgeries of a cave painting she'd ever seen. Shades of orange and yellow at the lower edge appeared to convey a sense of fire and when she held the bough closer, she could just make out figures of people sitting around the flames. Moving back again, she realized this was something she could look at forever and still find something new and unexpected in it. "David would love this," she whispered as she remembered that he was into visual arts as well as music. She'd read somewhere that he painted and sculpted. The cave felt peaceful and she knew it would shelter them as it had people before. She exited the cave, but left the burning pine bough just inside the entrance. She rushed down the incline and quickly dragged the travois up, unloading its contents into the cave. It took her a few minutes to descend from the cave and reach the shelter; only then did she wonder if David had heard her scream earlier and if he had, what he thought had happened.

"David," she prompted as she unlatched and opened the door. "David?" The fire was burning low, barely more than coals. Her eyes adjusted to the decreased light and rushed to kneel next to the man who was laying on his side facing away from the fire. She touched his shoulder, startling him.

"Melanie," he cried out as he recognized the woman. "What happened? I thought you were dead. I heard you scream. You were gone so long."

Spider brushed her hand up and down the man's arm and thought about what had happened. She wasn't sure she could completely explain the scream to herself, let alone another person. At least yet. "I'm not dead. I'm here. I'm sorry I was gone so long, but I found shelter." A heavy gust of wind cut off her words as the shelter shifted from the force. "It's not far away. I can get you there as soon as I move part of the fire."

"A cabin?"

"A cave, but it's an amazing cave. You're going to love it." She didn't think how stupid her words would sound to the singer worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He lived in expensive houses, condos, or apartments, not caves with dirt floors. He was used to the comforts of life: delicious food, running water, electricity. "It will keep us warm and dry and has plenty of room. I have food for us and it isn't fish." She smiled at him.

"A cave," he managed to choke out as a rumble of thunder caused the very ground to quake. "Okay."

"Okay." Her smile didn't fade. She did roll him to his back and check his shoulder. "You didn't over exert yourself, did you?" She could feel a slight separation between the bones that made up his shoulder joint. It was very close to dislocating again.

"No, it just started aching. Laying on my left side helps." She nodded at his words. "Do you have to leave again?" He sounded afraid. The gathering storm was becoming more intense; he could feel it in his very bones, something he'd never experienced before. Then again, he'd never been at the mercy of the elements before.

"Yes, but I'll be right back as soon as I have a fire burning. I want the cave to warm up while I move you. I hope I can get everything moved before the storm hits." She gathered together a clump of coals in a small skillet and added a few shreds of curled wood she'd carved from a larger piece. She did the same for the remaining fire until both flared up enough to give off heat. Her little fire was shielded by a piece of bark and she stood, looking down at David. "I'll be right back." Outside, she grabbed an armload of wood she'd gathered yesterday and that morning and raced to the cave, pausing only long enough to grab the barely burning pine bough. She dropped near the circle of stones and placed the hot coals in the middle, adding more shavings, then twigs, and a tepee of slightly larger branches that quickly caught fire and flamed into golden hues. Once the fire was firmly established, she rushed back to David's side and gently touched him, forcing his eyes to open. "I'm going to move you as soon as I immobilize your arm again." She quickly bandaged the limb down, hoping the joint would stabilize again with the added support. "Just relax," she prompted as she lifted him along with the blankets that covered him. She exited the little shelter and settled him on the travois before she returned to the space and carried out the cattail mat and mattress made of blankets and pillows. After checking that he was comfortable, she lifted the front of the conveyance and started toward the cave at a long-legged walk. She didn't hesitate in dragging the light-weight man up the incline and transported him right inside.

"Melanie," he said as the bedding was moved to a space near the fire. She hadn't answered him, but returned to lift him over to the remade bed. It was then that he saw the painting and he gasped before shaking slightly. As his eyes traveled over the illustration, he felt overwhelmed. "Melanie, it's beautiful." He looked toward the woman who just stood with a smile on her face. "How, what?" His words escaped him as he shook his head. He could only stare at the forms and shapes.

"I'll be back. I need to get everything moved. Then I have a meal to cook."

"What happened today?"

Spider had just reached the entrance and turned back at his question. "Everything and nothing. The storm is closing in." She could hear the increasing thunder in the ear pointing toward the outside, the other was cloaked in silence. "I'll need to make several trips." She rushed back to the beach, towing the empty travois. In the next thirty minutes she moved three loads, just leaving everything outside the cave on the ledges. She rushed back to the shelter for the last trip and was shocked that the tide was beyond what she had assumed to be the high water mark. It was within four feet of the shelter. It wouldn't have mattered if she had or hadn't found another place to shelter, the water would have forced them to flee. She packed everything she could on the travois and even grabbed the rope for the raft to tow it. There were still pieces of luggage and cargo cases in it. Before she left, she double checked that everything had been removed from the shelter. She grabbed the urinal; it had rolled to a depression near the wall. After a moment of indecision, she grabbed a pine bough off a wall and shoved it into the fire before lighting the structure on fire. If there was a ship out there, beyond the range of her sight, maybe someone on board would see the flames if they burned brightly enough before being doused by the inundating ocean and coming storm. There was nothing else that would burn near it. She stood watching the flames catch and climb through the shelter. Towing the travois and raft, she returned to the incline. She dragged the travois up and emptied it, returned to the raft and finally emptied it. She shoved the raft so it wedged between two trees and hoped it would stay there. If it didn't it had served its purpose. It carried the two of them to safety.

"David," Spider said softly as she entered the cave. He glanced toward her in surprise. He hadn't heard her at all.

"I thought you were coming right back?"

"I did. I had to make four trips. Now, I need to move everything inside."

"I wish I could help," he offered. He was feeling useless, laying around while the injured woman did everything. He was the man; he was supposed to do the heavy lifting. He was surprised when all Melanie did was smile at him. Her expression made him think that she knew exactly what his internal mussings were saying. "Are you okay?" His mind added, ' _are you cracking up?_ '

"I'm fine. How do you like it?" She nodded toward the painting before kneeling next to the fire and adding more wood. She was glad she'd moved the wood from the little shelter. It would be enough to keep the chill from returning to the cave.

"I've never seen anything like it," he admitted.

"I'll be back in." It took her most of an hour to move all the cases and luggage into the cave and by that point, the sun had not only disappeared below the horizon, the stars and moon were completely hidden by heavy cloud cover. She placed the medical cases along the wall nearest David's bed and most of the remaining items were arranged on a slightly raised area near the pool of water. She decided to cut out a few steaks from the elk and cook them up. They wouldn't be very tender, but at least they would be food. Sorting and organizing everything could wait until tomorrow. The elk would provide food for quite some time if she could dry it. Her mind was already planning on building drying platforms on the two ledges outside the cave. This late in the season she wouldn't have to worry about feeding fires to keep insects away and the marching storms had high enough winds associated with them that the meat would dehydrate quickly.

"Melanie," David said softly, something about the cave made him want to keep his voice low, both in pitch and volume. The woman was oblivious to his call as she carved into the elk and returned to the fire to cook the thick slices of meat. When she'd brought the heavy grates in, she'd added one over the flames, now it was a resting place for a heavy skillet and a pair of sizzling elk steaks. The man lifted his head and struggled to sit up. His abdomen and back screamed with every movement as he strained against the pain. "Melanie," he gasped as he fell back panting.

"David," the woman shifted the steaks away from the flames, left the fire, and came to his side. "What are you trying to do? Hurt yourself?" She quickly arranged something for him to lean against so he wouldn't stress himself. She had a suspicion that he'd over-exerted himself today. His tired expression and the slight tremors in his limbs attested to that. "Please, what's wrong?"

He blushed slightly and glanced away. It was strange because before he caught her attention, he was okay with his problem, now he felt uncomfortable.

"Toilet?" His slight nod, brought an answering one from her. "Your bowels?" He blushed to a deep crimson before blanching at her easy acceptance of his need. "Just one minute." She moved away from him and grabbed a large, shallow bowl that had been tucked into the chef's case and a roll of toilet paper from the plane. "Eventually I'll come up with a better solution, but for now it's the best we have." She glanced toward the entrance. "I don't think we'll want to go down the hill every time we have to use the facilities this winter."

David groaned. "I hadn't thought about that. An outhouse?" He'd never even seen one, let alone contemplated ever having to use one.

"That's a possibility, but we do know what a toilet is. I'm sure we can figure out how to duplicate something similar that doesn't require running water, but also isn't located on the other side of a snow drift."

Her words were gentle and carried an ease with something that was a normal part of living. She helped him sit over the bowl and cleaned him up without comment. Her touch was gentle and carefully neutral and helped him overcome his embarrassment. "Thank you."

She glanced up at his words wondering why he was thanking her. "You're welcome." She placed the now covered bowl near the entrance before going to the pool and ladling out a bowl of water and washed her hands with a small bar of soap. She noted in her mind the need for some type of sink where they could wash their hands and bodies as well as something to clean dishes and other things, and they really needed a steady source of hot water. She didn't want the pool of water to become contaminated, although it appeared to be continuously renewed from the flowing waterfall pouring from several feet above it. After returning to the fire and shifting the steaks back into the flames, she glanced toward the small stack of firewood and knew she needed to collect more tomorrow. Thankfully, they had food and water, and the travois would mean she could collect more wood on each trip. When the steaks were a nice medium rare, she moved them to a large serving platter and came to David's side with two forks and a knife in hand. She went to the water and ladled out two mugs of water, bringing them with her.

"I hope you don't expect me to eat both of those," he said with a tiny shake of his head.

"No, I do not expect you to eat both, although I think you could. You have a very healthy appetite. I thought we'd eat together." Spider smiled at him as she sat cross-legged next to him. She cut several pieces off the first steak before taking one of the forks and holding a bite out to David. "Have you ever had wild game before?" He shook his head. "Have a taste." When he opened his mouth, she slipped the piece into his mouth, quickly spearing another for herself.

"Oh, that's good," the singer said after he swallowed. "It's unlike anything I've had before, but it is delicious." He smiled and opened his mouth for the next bite. He was soon eating the meat as quickly as Spider could prepare it. "It really is good."

The woman tilted her head to one side and gave him a lopsided grin. "Are you sure it tastes good? Or is it because it isn't fish?"

"I'm glad it is not fish," he said stressing the word not. "But, it really does taste good. Maybe I was hungry."

"That's possible," Spider said as she took the last bite of her own steak. The elk steaks were gone as was the water and both of them felt like they needed to push away from a table and loosen their waistbands, in the proverbial sense. "I'd forgotten how good elk was. In some ways it's better cooked over an open fire than a conventional grill or in the oven." She smiled and chuckled. "It is really good roasted in a wood oven."

"I bet that would be good. I've been to a restaurant that uses a wood oven. It's their calling card as it were."

"Maybe this winter, I'll dig a ground oven. You light a fire in the bottom and allow it to die down to coals. I could place one of the other grates over the coals and place wrapped meat on top of it or one of the roasting pans from the chef case. I'd have to figure out a way to cover the opening to trap the heat. I wouldn't want to have to dig the food out all the time."

"I'm lucky," David said softly.

"Why?"

"I'm stranded on a deserted island with you." He saw the surprise in the woman's eyes and when she glanced away, he saw her nibble on her lower lip even though she was in profile. "Why are you surprised? I don't think anyone else could have saved my life."

"If I hadn't given you the ticket, you wouldn't be stranded here. You'd be home with your son."

"You can't be certain of that." David thought about how attentive she'd been from the beginning and thought of a possible reason for it. "You blame yourself for my injuries, my being here." Spider didn't trust her voice and only nodded before lowering her eyes. "I think I was meant to be here. I think everything happened just the way it was supposed to happen." He waited for the woman's gray eyes to meet his before continuing his thoughts. "On the plane, after the side of the plane exploded, I can't believe you trusted me to remove your coat. I saw how badly injured you were last night. Having your coat removed, had to have been agonizing." He saw the truth of that statement in the slight shift of her gaze. "But, afterward you thanked me. Why would you thank me for hurting you?"

"I wasn't thanking you for hurting me, although having all those pieces removed in a single yank was less painful than having them removed one at a time. I was thanking you for being there. I would have been sitting in the seat just across the aisle from you. The seat was destroyed by the blow out. If you hadn't been there, I'd be dead."

"You were sitting next to me, not across the aisle."

"After you had fallen asleep, I shifted you so you were sleeping across the two seats. I'd removed your boots so you would be more comfortable and covered you. After the pilot and I made the decision that we would have to bail if we wanted to have a chance at survival, I needed to wake you and prepare you for what was to come. You resisted waking, but when I heard something breaking loose on the plane, I grabbed you and sat you up. Leaning forward to lift you, hold your shoulders, actually protected my neck and head and to a degree my arms." Spider paused as she tried putting words together that would make sense and would convey her appreciation. "Helping you, saved my life. I believe that."

"And, here I've been thinking you were hurt because I was hopeless, helpless." He sighed and shook his head. "I wonder how Joey is doing."

Spider looked at David's worried face for several minutes, the only sound was the crackling of the fire and a hiss when a log collapsed into ashes. "David," she watched his eyes open and focus on her, "what does your heart say?"

"That he's safe and without injury." He frowned, the expression marred his features and showed that he wasn't sure of his words. "It's wishful thinking."

"Not necessarily. I've always believed, and have found it to be true, that family members, at least close family members, have a sixth sense about each other. That includes their physical and mental condition, their happiness levels, and more. When you first found out about his car accident, what did your heart say? Were you able to listen to it?" She was aware of his mental condition at the airport. He'd been out of his mind with worry and stress.

"Just that I had to reach him. I was a mess mentally already. This tour," he stopped himself and looked away. Thinking about that now seemed stupid: what did reviews, critics, and everything else matter? He understood enough about their situation that this was real life, real death. "What the hell does my music contribute to anything? It doesn't help anyone. It doesn't put food on tables. I could sing my lungs out right now and it would do nothing to put one piece of elk on that platter."

"David," Spider said softly, "your music does contribute to the world. It means more to people than you realize right now. It's true, that singing won't kill an elk, so it can be eaten, but that doesn't make it meaningless. Also, with your broken and bruised ribs, I wouldn't recommend singing your lungs out. Heal first."

The singer chuckled as the woman finished. "I don't think I would even try. But, I don't see it. I thought my music mattered, once. I'm not sure any more. Here, I'm useless. I'm a broken old man who's completely helpless. I have to be taken care of head to toe. Hell, I can't even wipe my own ass." He shook his head in anger. "You had to move everything. I couldn't do anything. I'm not even sure I'll be able to contribute anything once I heal. I don't have skills for this."

"Wait." The woman broke in, her expression was bordering on anger. She waited a minute to make sure she had his full attention and her own temper under control. "David, you might not have skills yet, but you're very intelligent. You can learn. I've taught people who didn't even know where meat came from how to hunt, how to butcher an animal, how to preserve their food, and even how to cook it in very rough circumstances. If someone who lacks intelligence to that degree can learn, you're going to be running circles around this island in a short period of time. You just have to give your body time to heal."

"Will I heal?"

"I believe you will. There is a chance your left arm will have to be amputated," she admitted. His look of horror at the news made her wish she could lie to him. "David, I refuse to lie to you. Your left forearm was fractured in numerous places and involved both bones. I did the best I could to put everything back into place, but without an x-ray or actual surgery, I can't be positive that everything is properly aligned. If it becomes infected to the point of gangrene, I'll have to remove it. So far, your circulation in that limb is excellent. A steady blood supply combined with good nutrition and external, mechanical support, the bracing, will provide the best chance of it healing successfully."

"I knew it was bad. I didn't know how bad." He looked at his arm and thought back to when he'd moved the torch from his left hand to the right before burning the spider. This was worse. "I'm left handed."

"You play guitar right handed." She'd known he wrote left handed, but had assumed he was ambidextrous because of his musicianship.

"I couldn't find a left handed guitar when I was learning to play."

"They can be hard to find," Spider said with a chuckle. "Don't write off your arm yet, David. As long as it stays warm, supported, and looks healthy, I'm going to assume it will heal with time. But, as I said, I refuse to lie to you. I'll give you as much information as you can handle. Regardless of the outcome, I'll help you every step of the way."

"You said something about preserving food earlier." He looked toward the elk. "We don't have an ice box or deep freeze."

"I'm going to build drying racks on the ledges outside."

"Tonight," David broke in.

"No not tonight, tomorrow. I need to figure out a way of hanging thin slices of the meat so it can dry. I was thinking when bringing things back that since it's almost winter, I won't have to worry about insects. I won't have to maintain fires to keep them away from the drying meat and there seems to be high winds associated with the storms that keep passing by. That will allow the meat to dry very quickly."

"What about rain? Won't it just get wet?"

The woman stopped and bit the inside of her cheek. "I hadn't thought about that. It does appear this island gets a lot of rain." She slouched a little as she thought about the problem. "I found some sheds this afternoon. Maybe I can transport some of the mostly intact metal sheets to fashion roofs over the drying racks. If the ends are open, it might focus the wind better." The woman's mind was already working out the possibilities as well as the engineering that would be required. "I can bring some back tomorrow when I go out for wood. There are a few other things I'd like to bring back." She smiled as she thought about David's earlier embarrassment and got an idea for building a toilet. "It is getting late. You need your rest if you're going to heal. I know earlier we were talking about working on your mouth tonight, but you seemed able to eat okay."

"I was hungry." David grimaced slightly. "It did hurt to eat, but could we wait until tomorrow? I can't believe how tired I feel and I haven't done anything."

"Your body is healing. It is going to demand sleep. I would be more surprised if you weren't tired most of the time. You will be sleeping a lot more than you would under normal circumstances." She looked at the man's expression, breathing, and other physical signs: all pointed to him being exhausted. "What did you do today?"

"Slept, most of the time. I am weak. I couldn't even lift the full bottle of water. Everything was a struggle." He blushed slightly at admitting it. He felt disabled and worried that he'd never heal.

"Your strength will return as you heal. Just give it time." The woman gathered their dishes and silverware and moved to the pool of water. After a minute, she grabbed an empty cargo container and brought it over. She transferred fresh water as well as the pot of hot water from the fire into one side of the open box and smiled before adding some soap to it and swishing it around. She quickly washed the dishes, rinsed them with fresh water, and left them to dry in the other half of the box. There had been numerous bottles and bars of soap in the luggage and cargo containers that she'd investigated so far. No dish soap, but if rinsed well, it shouldn't matter. That they were clean was the important thing. She thought a similar arrangement could work for bathing.

When Spider turned back to the man, she smiled sadly; David had fallen asleep sitting up, his head at a very awkward angle that had to be quite painful. She took a few minutes to check the weather. The sky had opened up and while it appeared to be liquid precipitation, the ledges looked icy. In the entrance to the cave, she could hear the thunder and see the lightning, but she'd been oblivious to both deeper inside. The cavern almost screamed stability and security and she smiled as she returned to the fire. It was warm, almost too warm for her, but she hadn't notice David showing any signs of chill even though he was still naked. She banked the fire and glanced around the space. She'd need to make some lanterns so they had additional light; that would be especially important once David started moving around. She remembered reading that he had decreased visual acuity in his damaged left eye. His right eye would need to be protected from becoming strained and from suffering additional physical damage.

As gently as possible, Spider shifted David forward and removed the case and padding he'd been leaning against before rolling him to his right side. She checked his left forearm for swelling and was relieved to find none and that the limb showed no signs of fever. His various pulses were strong, although his feet seemed a little chilled. She'd dig out the wool socks tomorrow and wash them. In the meantime, she'd at least put the strange little white socks that he'd been wearing with his red boots on his feet. They would help keep his feet warm. She removed the outermost blankets and only left the heavy dark blanket as a cover before curling up behind him, one arm cradled his head and neck, the other draped over his shoulders. If he woke and needed her, she'd be awakened. Her activities of the day had exhausted her and she was asleep within minutes of laying her head down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with the wolves, wolverines, and deer is based on an actual situation I witnessed when hunting in Montana. Two wolverines drove a pack of seven wolves away from their kill by crippling two of the wolves. The rest of the wolf pack gave way and the wolverines stole the kill. As to actually killing wolverines with a spear, it is possible. Wolverines tend to enjoy torturing those animals they attack and will play with their prey. They are vicious little creatures, but their fur really prevents ice build up on clothing.
> 
> The cave painting I describe in this chapter, and elaborate on in later ones, is based on a real cave painting I saw years ago in Europe. Touching such a painting is not a good idea, but in some instances it can't be resisted.
> 
> The cave itself is an actual cave "system" I used to play in as a child. It was hidden behind a small rock fall that I discovered when I was about seven or eight. I dug away the fallen rocks and was amazed at the beautiful cave. I spent many a summer camping out there, hunting for my food and gathering the plenty provided by nature. The cave is still there, hidden behind a barrier so it is protected from animals and those who would never respect its beauty and security. It did not have a cave painting from antiquity, although I did use the walls for recording music, lyrics, poetry, and my own poor attempts at sketching pictures.
> 
> What was added completely from imagination are the ledges and the flat-top area with the steps. Although there was a flat area outside the cave, it was no where near as large as what I describe and the cave elevation was not as high as described. The cave I knew was only about ten feet above a flat region cut through by a rocky stream and surrounded by forest and berry patches. It was the most idyllic place I've ever seen in my life.


	5. December 4, 1987 - A Toothy Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider deals with the damage to David's teeth. Gathering supplies and food take center stage as the pair attempt to prepare to survive what's ahead of them. Breaks in the weather are to be taken advantage of if they have any chance of lasting until they are rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Description of dental procedure.

~~~~~

December 4, 1987

"What, where am I," David mumbled as he woke. He glanced around and realized he was in the cave. A sob escaped his lips when he realized it had only been a dream; he thought a ship found them and that they were rescued. "It felt so real," he whispered. The cave painting was watching over him, but the woman was not in sight. The fire was built up and radiated heat. The smell of cooked food filled the air and made his mouth water. He was laying on his right side and strangely the position seemed to help dampen the pain in his shoulder. He knew he'd over exerted it the day before trying to move around more than he should. The elk was gone as were the furs that had been there last night. With effort, he rolled to his back and tried working his jaw. His mouth felt swollen and his teeth hurt; the pain was giving him a headache. A quick turn of his head to look at the pillow he'd been sleeping on showed a great deal of blood smeared on it. It wasn't much more than he'd seen in the past, but it hit him especially hard this time in light of the previous day's conversation about the damage his teeth and mouth had suffered.

"David."

The singer looked toward the entrance to the cave and gave her a forced smile. "Melanie."

Spider came to David's side and knelt down. "Let me look." She brushed a single finger along his jaw and frowned at the swelling and feeling of heat. "I'm sorry. I should have done something last night." She glanced in his mouth and almost grimaced at the amount of blood that was pooling there. She grabbed a small bowl and held it to his lips, "spit," she ordered. Another look in his mouth showed that the lower broken molar was inflamed and bleeding; two of the three upper molars had shifted enough that they were also seeping blood and a small amount of pus. She shook her head. "They're infected and bleeding. I'm sorry, I should have dealt with them last night."

David shook his head and grimaced as the movement caused more pain.

"Is there additional pain? In a different location?"

"My head hurts. The right side near my ear."

Spider grabbed the small flashlight as well as the otoscope and returned to his side. "Let me look," she looked in his ear, "does this hurt," she asked as she pulled gently on his earlobe.

"No. It makes it feel a little better."

"You don't show any signs of an ear infection. The fact that pulling your earlobe helps means the pain is referring from your mouth and jaw. It's possible that you slept funny, but I'd lean more toward your teeth and the bruising."

"You said the pain would go away immediately." David shivered slightly and gagged on a swallow of blood. "Can you fix my mouth now?"

"Yes," Spider said as she lifted the singer into a sitting position. "Take a little water and then spit it out. Rinse out the blood." She helped David perform the action. "I'll also give you antibiotics."

"Pills?"

"Capsules. But, I'll start you on a series of injections. They'll enter your system faster. You're running a slight fever and that headache bothers me. I can't believe of all the medical instruments they have in these cases, they don't have a thermometer. Knowing how high your fever is would answer some questions I have. As I said, that headache bothers me, it could mean that you have an infection in your brain, but it could be from your teeth and jaw. Do you have a history of headaches in the mornings when your teeth have bled?"

"Yes. The headache usually goes away after I've washed my mouth out with peroxide and moved around a little." Spider nodded, it wasn't conclusive, but past history was usually reflected in the present and future. "It's never felt this bad," David admitted.

"I'll get everything ready and get those teeth out. That will help us determine if they are the root cause or if it's something separate that we need to be worried about."

"If it's something to worry about, what then?"

"I'll have to risk giving you an IV and treat you with antibiotics that way. If the pain in your head becomes worse, even after other interventions, I can attempt to deliver medication directly to the brain via a shunt, but that would be the last, absolute last, resort. The chance of an even worse infection would be high; it might outweigh any possible benefits." Spider knew her explanation had to be terrifying for the singer; although, he hid his reaction well.

"Let's hope it's the teeth."

"Yes. It'll take me a few minutes to get everything set up. I'm not going anywhere." The woman stood and opened several of the medical cases before going to the fire and pouring a mug of liquid that had been steaming there. Returning to David's side, she tossed several gauze pads into the mug, drew up a needle of Novocaine mixed with epinephrine, and withdrew a single use pouch of dental tools. She pulled on a set of exam gloves and turned to the singer. He looked feverish: his face was reddened, his eyes were out of focus, and his breath was slightly uneven. "Okay?"

"Yes." David nodded before opening his mouth.

Spider wiggled his cheek as she injected the pain medication into several points inside David's mouth. "Try not to talk or move your mouth. You could easily bite your tongue."

He nodded but frowned. "It's working." His eyes started to drift shut as the pain fell away and he relaxed.

"You'll feel pressure." The woman worked quickly, pulling the various fractured teeth before swabbing out the sockets. The gauze came away with very little blood, but there was significant pus. It was so abundant, she was beginning to wonder how long the infection had been festering untreated. The damage from the airplane crash might have been a coincidence or a catalyst for the infection to drain. After the gauze came away clean, she packed the areas of his mouth and told him to bite down. She cleaned away the tools she'd used. They could be boiled to sterilize them even though they were originally single use items. With no idea how long they'd be there, they needed to preserve as many things as possible, even if it meant using them in less than perfect circumstances. "Let me look," she prompted and checked the gauze and David's mouth. "Almost no bleeding, that's good."

"How bad," he mumbled, "infection."

"I'm not convinced the infection just developed. It was extensive, but I was able to clear it away. I'm still placing you on antibiotics. Two injections of two types to get you started. I have no way of determining the exact bacteria that might be present, so I'm going to give you two medications that combined will be effective against most of them. You'll need to take a full series of each, but if the infection spreads, it'll be worse." She rolled up the gauze from the mug and used it to pack his mouth again. "Bite down. You need to keep that in there for at least thirty minutes. How does your ear feel?"

"Better."

"Your headache?"

David shifted his neck and turned his head back and forth. "Almost gone."

"Keep me appraised of how you're feeling. Once the gauze is out at least." David nodded and tried smiling. He was suddenly tired again and he let his eyes drift closed. He felt a brush of something warm and wet on his shoulder and opened his eyes to look. "A pinch," Spider said as she injected the first syringe of antibiotics and immediately followed that with a second. "That will get you started. I'll sort out a series of each medication, so we know exactly where you are in the cycle. That knowledge will help us determine if there are additional problems."

"Okay," the singer mumbled as he relaxed into the pillows he was propped up on. He fell asleep shortly after that. He wasn't aware of Spider removing the gauze and double checking his mouth for further bleeding or signs of infection. Nor was he aware of her exchanging the blood covered pillow for a clean one. Even with the damage of removing the teeth, the swelling was already decreasing as was the redness and the feverish heat. Almost an hour later, David woke and while his mouth ached, it wasn't the sharp pain from earlier. He brushed his tongue over the spaces where his teeth had been. The area seemed tender, but not as painful as he had expected. He looked around and saw the woman working at the fire, cutting things up and placing them into a large pot. "Melanie?"

The woman immediately looked up and turned to him. "How do you feel?" Outwardly, he looked much better: his eyes were clear and focused, he wasn't flushed with fever, and the swelling was almost gone.

"Much better. My headache is gone and my ear feels like it popped, like in a plane."

"Those are good signs. Are you hungry?"

"Very," David admitted.

"I decided that a steak would be too hard on your mouth, so I made a stew. I found some roots to put in it to make it more substantial."

"Carrots?"

"No, cattail roots."

"Huh?"

"They taste a lot like parsnips crossed with potatoes. They're starchy with an earthy taste. Give them a chance. They might be the only starch we get this winter. I'm going to weave some baskets and collect some grains that are growing around here."

"Biscuits?"

"Not yet. I'll have to see if I can cultivate some wild yeast. If so, I can make sour dough bread which would include biscuits and even cakes if I can find honey."

"Yummy." David smiled. He wasn't sure about the cattails, but he loved honey on his biscuits. "Honey makes everything taste better!"

"The food will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Let me get you more comfortable." Spider leaned David against her shoulder and shifted the cases and pillows behind him so he could sit up straighter. After settling him against the rest, she checked over his shoulder and left arm. His pulses were strong and even and his forearm still showed no sign of infection.

"All good?"

"It looks good." The woman shifted back and studied his face for a moment before returning to the fire to ladle out the soup.

David sniffed at the bowl she brought over and closed his eyes at the rich scent. "It smells good. And, best yet, it isn't fish."

"That's true, it isn't fish."

"Elk?"

"Yes, and rabbit."

"Where did you get rabbit?"

"I killed three of them this morning. Before we worked on your teeth."

"What time is it?"

"If I had to guess, maybe mid- to late-morning? The sun is high in the sky."

David looked at the woman in wonder. "How long have you been awake?"

"The sun hadn't risen yet, but the sky was lightening. The storm last night brought some rain and snow, but the winds must have been very high, there are tree branches down all over the place. I'm going to bring back some metal sheeting from those sheds this afternoon. Thankfully, the sky appears clear with no storm clouds. I just hope I have enough time to get some cover provided for the meat I have hanging outside."

"You figured out something?"

"I found several spools of wire yesterday. It's the type used for electric fences, so it's thin and sturdy. I pounded several stakes into the ledge and strung the wire between them after putting the meat on the wire. I'm hoping maybe I can find some metal stakes in the sheds. They would pound into the ledge more easily and could support a lot more weight at multiple levels."

"Wow." David didn't know what to say. He'd never have thought to try something like she'd described. He licked his lips and smelled the air some more. "Is the stew cool enough to eat?"

"Yes." Spider fed him the entire bowl. "I'll give you more a little later. Let's give your mouth time to rest now."

"Okay. I am tired."

"Rest. I won't be long." She made sure David was covered with several blankets. After building up the fire and double checking the now sleeping singer, she grabbed the travois and headed for the sheds. She easily removed a couple dozen relatively solid metal sheets from the various buildings before searching around for stakes. If the wiring had been for an electric fence, they had to have metal stakes to erect it. Tucked into the treeline about ten yards away from the trio of sheds, she found two additional sheds, each three times as large as the first ones, as well as cement foundations that could have accommodated at least four more of the larger buildings. The two new sheds were a treasure trove as far as she was concerned; not only did she find stakes in several lengths, she found a locker room of cabinets that were stuffed with more traps, spools of wire, several more pairs of boots, and an assortment of wool items: clothing, mostly long underwear, but also gloves, socks, a pair of button down shirts, and also a trio of blankets. The clothes looked as if they would be huge on David, but they could be altered. She carried a sewing kit in her luggage at all times; she was prone to losing buttons and snagging clothes, so it was a necessity. She continued searching and in the back section of the second shed, there were four pallets holding at least ten dozen metal sheets for building more sheds that had never been exposed to the weather. After removing the weathered sheets, she stacked as many of the untouched ones on the travois as she thought she could pull. Three long rubber bungee cords that had been hanging near the door held them in place.

Ninety minutes after she'd left, she was on her way back to the cave. She made a mental note of the swampy area that was overgrown with cattails and a large patch of bushes, some of which had small, round blue-colored berries on them. A closer look at the standing amaranth showed it wasn't the typical short-growing plants she was used to seeing, but appeared to be the more ancient form that easily topped seven feet with huge seed-heads. The plants were bent over by the weight of the ripened grains. Taking about twenty minutes, she stripped some of the cattails of their long leaves and bundled them up to transport back to the cave. They already felt soft enough to work with and even though they had turned slightly brown, losing their pretty green color, she figured she'd be able to get a nice result since she was only making storage baskets. Another ten minutes and she was back at the cave. She brought the cattail leaves into the cave and settled them away from the fire before checking on David. He was still asleep, but his face appeared relaxed and the swelling had completely subsided. She gently touched the side of his face, the fever was also gone.

Again outside, Spider sorted through the various items she'd returned with. She decided to build on the second more narrow section of ledge, since there wasn't anything to block her from working. She pounded in four of the long posts she found directly into the hillside using the hammer and long nails from the toolbox. In the topmost supports of the posts, she added angled brackets she'd found among the various metal building supplies before adding four support posts near the open edge of the ledge, pounding them deeply into the rocky surface. When she tugged at them, they stayed put. Again, a set of angle brackets were secured to the tops. She hefted one of the metal sheets and had no idea how she'd press them above her head. They weren't that heavy, just unwieldy and the light breeze wasn't being helpful. She finally got the first sheet up and discovered a perfectly timed gust of wind gave it added lift and made it fall into place. She adjusted it until she got it aligned over the angled brackets and secured the sheet to them. She did the same with three additional sheets before standing back to double check her work. Before she moved onto the next section she wanted to build, she checked on David.

"Melanie," David said softly as the woman entered the cave. He'd awakened a short time ago and wondered how everything was coming.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better." The singer smiled. "That stew still smells really good." He blushed slightly.

"I'll get you another bowl." She got the bowl, but also brought back a mug of pine tea and a bottle of water. "Are you thirsty?"

"Yes," David said before drinking the pine tea and most of the bottle of water. He kept glancing toward the stew, his mouth was watering. "Stew?"

"Stew." Spider slowly fed him the bowl of stew before filling it again. She was relieved that he had a healthy appetite; she'd been afraid that he wouldn't have much of one or be a very picky eater because of how thin he had always looked. After he finished the second bowl, he kept glancing toward the fire almost as if he wanted to ask for a third helping. "Give your body a chance to process what it's already been given, David. Let your body adjust."

"Okay," he said with a nod. "Um," he glanced aside, "I don't think we brought the urinal."

"I brought it, I just forgot to set it near you. Although, I'm not sure how you would use it right now." She walked to the slightly raised area and picked the urinal up. After helping David use it and washing him so he would stay clean, she placed it near the entrance. "I'm working on the first set of shelters for covering the drying meat. "I'll be right outside, although I doubt I'll be able to hear you. Are you all right sitting up to rest or sleep?"

"Yes, just let me know if you're going to leave." He smiled at the woman. "I do worry."

"I will. I'm going to finish the shelter on this ledge before moving the meat under it. I think it's going to work out very well. After I'm done, I'm going to make some baskets and get the grains of the amaranth." She paused a moment. "I found some blueberries frozen to their branches, do you like blueberries?"

"Very much." The singer licked his lips.

"I'll make a basket for those as well. They can be a dessert or snack. They've already been frozen, so they won't last very long. They'll turn to mush very quickly, so you'll need to eat them soon."

"That won't be a problem. They won't last long at all." David grinned widely.

"Okay. I'll be right outside." She stood and returned to the ledge, thinking that she needed to figure out a way for David to get her attention if he needed her. Almost two hours later, she'd completed the roof for a second section, as well as the outside wall of the little tunnel before pounding some of the shorter poles along the interior of it. It stretched almost thirty feet along the long ledge and would provide significant space for drying meat. She added cross brackets to the top and a midpoint, securing them to the rear wall. They appeared quite stable for being a jury-rigged setup. She moved the meat and wires, twisting each wire end in place. She realized that she needed to figure out a better way of connecting the wire. As it was currently set up, she had to cut the wire each time she needed to change the meat; she'd run out of wire very quickly doing that. She knew she could think of an alternative, but for now, she left everything as it had been, just under the cover of the little shelter. She went back into the cave and saw the singer was asleep.

She laid out the cattail leaves and sorted through them in preparation of making several baskets. It had been two years since she'd woven anything more complicated than a mat, but it wasn't a skill easily forgotten once mastered. Thirty minutes later, she had one large gathering basket made with shoulder straps added to it. She started onto a second smaller basket for the blueberries and completed it even more quickly due to size and the fact she didn't have to add anything extra to it. She glanced up when David shifted as he woke and smiled at him when he looked at her. "Good morning, sleepyhead." She had to laugh at him when he took her words seriously.

"It's morning," he asked with a pause, "already?"

"No, you were sleeping so soundly and you look rested, as if you've had a very good night's sleep."

David drew a deep breath and released it slowly. "That's how I feel."

"Can I do anything for you before I leave? I'll probably be gone around an hour. I want to be back before night falls."

"I think I'm okay."

"Okay," she stood with her two baskets, leaving the large swath of remaining cattail leaves in their stacks. She'd take time to make additional storage baskets with lids for the grains later. "I'll be back." She left and headed for the stand of amaranth. After scraping as much grain into the basket as she could carry, she quickly picked the blueberry bushes clean of their tiny frozen berries. It ended up being a little over an hour that she was gone, but the passage of time felt very different on the island.

In the cave, David was starting to feel bored. Not a good condition for him to be in. He usually got into trouble when boredom took over his mind. He watched the fire for a while, glanced around the large cave, then studied the painting. The longer he looked at the painting, the more details he spotted. It was fascinating to him; he'd never studied prehistoric art and was amazed at what ancient people had accomplished. The animals were detailed and textured. The humans, while proportioned slightly differently, were definitely human in shape and form. The flames near the bottom edge were vibrant and he could almost imagine heat radiating from them, but most amazing was the sky. The hunt must have been around sun set because the sky was ablaze with the most magnificent coloration. He wondered how the artist had accomplished that without a palette of oil or acrylic paints. "Oh, wow," he gasped out as he remembered the sky before he lit the spider on fire: the sky of the painting was almost identical to that sun set. He closed his eyes and felt a shiver rush through him. He looked up as he heard a scraping sound from the entrance. The relief in seeing the woman enter made his heart beat faster and he wondered if any of the animals of the island could reach the cave.

"David," Spider said softly, surprised to see him wide awake. "How are you feeling?" She carefully shrugged out of the large, almost overflowing basket she'd carried over her shoulders, settling it carefully near the entrance. The smaller basket, she brought over to the reclining singer.

"Much better," David replied as he glanced at the basket. "Blueberries?"

"Yup." The woman picked a couple berries out of the container and offered them to the smiling blond.

The man opened his mouth and closed it when he felt the slight weight of the berries on his tongue. After chewing and swallowing the morsels, he smiled even more widely. "Delicious." Another small mouthful of berries and he closed his eyes to savor the juicy almost overly sweet fruit.

"I'm glad you like them. Would you like a bowl of stew?"

"Yes, please." He watched the woman rise and go to the fire. The stew pot had been simmering all day and she now shifted it completely off the fire. She dished out the last two bowls; the liquid from earlier had thickened. "If I eat the stew, I can have the blueberries?" He looked hopeful.

"If you don't want the stew, it's okay, David. I won't force you to eat it. You can simply eat the berries if you prefer." Spider looked serious and wondered why he believed that he'd be forced to eat something he didn't want to.

"Melanie, I'm joking. The stew is delicious. The berries are, too." He sniffed the air and looked into the bowl. "Why's it so thick?"

"It's been cooking all day. Most of the water I used has evaporated. I do tend to make my stews very thick anyway, but because of your teeth, I added extra water so it would be easier for you to eat. The broth also helps keep you hydrated."

"My mouth is aching a little, but it stopped hurting."

"I'm glad. How long have you had trouble with your teeth?"

"Since I was a teenager," he admitted. "Ever since my first adult teeth started coming in. They've bled, shifted, hurt or ached, and creaked. My jaw pops periodically. Early on in my career, I learned that making certain sounds or breathing certain ways would relieve the pain and help my jaw relax. The heavy breathing I do on some songs is related to that. I've learned other ways to relieve the pressure over the years, but, my extraneous noise had already become part of my image." He chuckled softly at some of the comments his 'noises' had elicited.

"That's a long time to have tooth problems." Spider checked the temperature of the stew and spooned out the first bite. "Don't suffer any future pain that long. Tell me immediately. There might be something that can be done short of pulling more teeth." She knew if he lost too many teeth, she'd have to come up with some form of partial plate for him so he could chew his food properly. "I've always assumed you made the sound effects to build excitement for a song or a section of a song. It's interesting to hear they have or had an underlying purpose." She smiled at him and realized he was reminiscing about his real life. She hoped it would lift his spirits more; the lightening of his heart would help speed his healing. "Here. Remember leave room for the berries."

"Okay," he chuckled as he quickly ate both bowls of the stew.

"More?" David shook his head. "Berries?"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "Yummy!"

Spider fed small spoonfuls of the berries to the singer until almost all of them were gone. "I guess I don't have to worry about them going soft or spoiling. Do you want to finished them or save the remainder for breakfast."

David groaned. "Breakfast. I'm stuffed."

"You have a healthy appetite. That's good."

"Will there be stew left for breakfast?"

"I'm going to wash out the pot and put a new batch on to cook overnight." Spider cleared away the two bowls and took the basket of berries to the entrance where it was cooler. She thought the lower temperature should prevent the berries from thawing out completely. She returned with a wrapped hunk of meat that she left by the fire. She washed out the bowls, spoons, and pot using the same method as the day before, except using hotter water, she left the bowls and spoons to air dry, but wiped the outside of the pot with a towel. She filled the pot almost half way with water and brought it to the fire. It didn't take her long to cut up a the elk and rabbit meat she'd brought from the entrance and added the slightly browned roots from cattails that she'd cleaned and washed that morning. After stirring the soupy mixture, she shifted it completely over the fire. As it heated, she went outside to test some of the slivers of meat for dryness. She was smiling when she reentered.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary," David said softly.

"The meat is almost dry. That wind is really doing the trick and the shelter is working like a wind tunnel, funneling the air over the meat." She looked at him appreciatively. "Your idea," she said with emphasis, "it was a very good one that is performing double-duty."

David shook his head. "When you mentioned the rain, all I could think of was that it would mess up all your hard work." He didn't believe he'd thought of anything special. "Dried meat is just jerky, right?" Spider nodded. "How is that beneficial though? Jerky is really tough." He was thinking about how hard it would be for him to eat jerky with so many teeth missing and others that were still sensitive.

"We won't have to eat it as jerky. Although, that is a possibility if we need something to eat quickly. I'll reconstitute the meat in a soup or stew. It makes a very strong, concentrated broth and tastes more like a roast than a typical stew." She smiled. "The meat ends up being very soft and easy to chew. If I can find some other grains, such as wheat or oats, I can add those and it tastes like a casserole or pot pie. I don't know how the amaranth would taste in it. I might have to try it on a small portion."

"I've never had amaranth, what's it taste like?"

Spider reached into the basket filled with the grain pulled out several seeds: cream, red, green, and purple, almost black. "Here, try it. The grains will taste very similar. Let them rest in your mouth until they soften." She placed the four seeds in his mouth and watched as he tested the texture and taste of the new food.

David shifted seeds to his cheek to hold them while he tested the first one. He swallowed that and performed the same action with the second, third, and then the fourth. "It's earthy. The first one was a little sweeter than the second, and the third and fourth weren't very different, but they tasted," he paused a moment to find the right descriptor, "substantial. Maybe a little meaty. I bet they would make for a heavy bread." He was still working his mouth, savoring the remaining taste. "It's quite good."

"If it was the only grain used, the bread would be extremely heavy and dense, or else I'd have to make it very thin, almost like a crispy biscuit. I'm hoping since there was one grain around here that there are other patches of grains in other parts of the island." She walked to the cattails and brought a bundle over to David's bed. "The grains were damp from the rain, so I'm going to spread them out to dry overnight. Once they have little chance of rotting or becoming moldy, I'll put them in covered baskets in a cold space off from the second room back there." She pointed to the dark doorway at least twenty feet away.

"What are you making?" David watched as the woman's hands quickly created a shallow, rectangular object. It only took her about fifteen minutes to create the item, but it looked substantial enough to store things in.

"These are going to be several drying mats. The sides are to prevent the grains from being tossed out easily when I shift them around. The rest of the leaves are going to be used for a pair of large barrel-like containers with lids that will store the amaranth. I'll gather more cattail leaves in the morning and let them cure until evening that I'll use to make boxes with lids to store the dried meat. I'd prefer to use birch boxes or other hard containers, but I'll use what is available." She set aside the first tray and reached for more leaves, quickly adding two more trays to the first. "That should be enough for now." She moved the basket filled with amaranth to the raised area along with the trays and quickly distributed the seeds evenly in the trays so they could dry. She picked up the remaining leaves and returned to David's side to create a couple of baskets and their corresponding lids. Because of the shape and slightly larger size and precision required to make the fitted lids, they took significantly longer to make.

"Will they really protect the grains?"

"They will store the grain. We are the ones who ultimately protect it. Without a door, it is possible for animals to get into the cave. I'll need to come up with some way of blocking the entrance. I can't think how I can hang an actual door on it with what we have on hand, but perhaps a leather drape made from the elk hide would be sufficient. Most animals don't like pushing heavy items aside, even if there is something that smells really good on the other side. Plus, once the winter winds pick up, it would prevent the heat from escaping the cave and the cold from entering." She double checked the fit between the lids and barrel baskets before standing up and placing them near the far wall.

"Melanie," David said softly as the woman returned to his side. She waited patiently while the man gathered the words he wanted to say. "Yesterday," he thought it was yesterday, the days were already starting to bleed together, "you said we needed to prepare accordingly." She nodded. "You meant food, right?"

"Not just food. Although right now, that's the most pressing matter. We have secure, or relatively secure shelter and a source of clean, fresh water. Tomorrow, I'm going to set up a trio of posts on the flat area above the cave along with three signal fires. Three is the universal signal of needing help. I was originally going to spell out SOS or HELP on the beach, but it appears to be inundated periodically at high tide. I'd have to redo it each time it was washed away." She paused a minute while she thought of other things that would be very nice to store before winter set in. "We need the means of staying warm, so wood will be vital. I'm hoping that I can kill several large animals for meat and then cure their hides for additional blankets and eventually clothing, leather is very durable and warm. I found a pair of boots yesterday and more pairs today. The pair from yesterday were size 13, the same as your red ones. Of the ones from today, there were two more size 13's, a size 10, three size 7's, and a size 15. The tens will be perfect on me. At least they give us footwear for the time being. In the future, I'll see if I can remember how to sew moccasins for us. I don't think we want to walk around without some protection on our feet."

"I wouldn't want to." David thought about his feet and how tender the soles were.

"You do wear a size 13 boot, right?"

"Actually I wear a twelve, but I wore the next full size up in the red boots because of the pointed toe and how narrow they were. Also, my feet used to swell during the shows."

Spider frowned. "Because you were dehydrated? Or retaining water? Or was it because you were over exerting yourself?" Water retention could be a sign of heart problems or other health difficulties and sent up a red flag in the woman's mind.

"Probably a little bit of all three," David admitted. "When I changed clothes between the first and second halves of the show, I gulped down as much water as I could. By the end of the night, my feet were tight and burned."

"These boots might be a little big then, but if you wear a second pair of socks, they should be okay."

"I haven't worn leather clothes in a long time," the singer said with a chuckle. "Will you make it black and shiny?"

"No, I'm going to finish it as suede or buckskin." She chose to ignore the sexual suggestiveness contained in his comment. "I hope I can get enough wolf furs to make you a parka. Wolf fur is extremely warm. Once you're healed up, you can go outside and maybe explore a little on your own. I wouldn't recommend it until you're at least familiar with using the spears, in case you encounter a predator, but if you don't get out of here, you'll go stir-crazy with boredom. I would," she admitted.

"Funny you should say that. I was getting bored earlier." He glanced toward the painting. "That painting. It's fascinating, beautiful, almost alive," he said with a sigh. "It kept my mind occupied, today at least. It's not good to let me get bored. I usually get into trouble when I'm bored."

Spider chuckled. "As do I, that's why I want to get in other things: additional cattail leaves, birch bark, tall, straight tree trunks for making spears, antlers or bones to make spear points, even chunks of wood to try making growing pots, and stone for chipping out shallow dish lanterns so we have better light. We can't afford to cause your right eye too much strain. We need to keep it healthy."

"What would you put in the lanterns? A small fire?"

"Fat. I will render fat from any carnivores I kill in the future. I have the intestines of the elk I can store the fat in. I hope to find some animals that have significant stores of fat in preparation for the winter. If it's from a grass eater, I'll store it for cooking."

"Fat's not good for us."

"Actually, fat is vital for our well being. Fat doesn't make us fat and it's brain food. I'm tired of hearing the fat mythology. You'd think after a decade and a half of pushing low fat, high carbohydrate diets on the population and watching the rate of heart attacks and strokes go up, they'd rethink that. The original high carbohydrate diet was pushed because they believed Americans were too thin and needed to gain weight. Well, they are gaining weight and becoming less healthy in the process." Spider shook her head in irritation. In medical school she was taught that fat was the problem, but even a cursory glance at the diets of people who were not healthy, showed something completely different. At first, she'd been shocked at the number of heart attack patients she'd seen in the emergency department during her rotations and how many of them stated that they couldn't be having a heart attack because they refused to eat fat. They ate what they'd been taught was a healthy diet and ended up with the very health problems they were trying to prevent.

"But, I thought." Spider nodded at the singers unvoiced words. "I never was very good at sticking to low fat. It was as if my body craved it."

"It does crave it. Fat makes us feel full faster and longer. It is also used in our bodies to carry nutrients, fuel our minds, make hormones, and keep our skin healthy looking. Those are some big things fat is used for, but there are so many little things as well. Eliminating fat makes a person hungry all the time."

"Will you also store up those cattail roots?"

"You liked them?"

"Yes. They were somewhat dry this morning, but tonight, they really tasted great and they were nice and soft. You were right that they are somewhat like a potato."

"They don't have much of a taste of their own, but they absorb the flavors of everything else in the dish. If you cook them with meat, they taste like meat. They do the same with grains and vegetables."

"So, they would help stretch the meat out."

"They will, but I'm hoping to get enough meat put up that we won't have to worry about stretching it. Tomorrow, I'll bring in the meat that's drying and get it stored away. I'm also going to see if I can carve out an atlatl, some would call it a spear thrower. Basically it's a force multiplier. It allows me to throw a spear harder and farther than I would be able to with only arm power." She glanced away from David's gaze. "I'm not sure I'm strong enough to kill something with a normally thrown spear."

"You seem plenty strong enough to me." Spider looked up at his gently spoken words. "You've been moving me around as if I weigh nothing and look at everything you've moved from the beach to this cave. You're not weak."

"First, David, you are extremely underweight. Second, all those things," she glanced toward the various containers on the raised platform, "just took time, not great strength."

"Don't under estimate yourself, Melanie." David thought back through the woman's list of things to store. "Why would you need grow pots? Would you try growing the amaranth?"

"No, amaranth has too deep of a root system to attempt to grow in pots. I collect heirloom and national treasure seeds. I have a number of ones I picked up while in New Zealand and before that in Australia, Japan, and Korea. Also, I have a number of my own saved seeds I brought to use for trade. If I can make some pots, I want to plant some medicinal herbs to keep growing in the cave year round. If one or both of us gets ill, we need to have some means of treating ourselves. The conventional medicines are fine as long as they aren't expired or that we have enough for a full cycle of treatment. However remote, there is the possibility that one or both of us could be allergic to a medication we've never had before. Having natural alternatives will be beneficial in both the short and long term."

"What types of seeds do you have with you?"

"A wide assortment of medicinal herbs, but also seeds for food crops: carrots, celery, onions, radishes, peppers, tomatoes, squash, gourds, corn, etc. I try trading for as wide of a variety of produce as I can. Even if it isn't something I eat, I usually know someone I can trade it to who has something I enjoy."

"Are you thinking of putting in a garden?" David was surprised at the idea, he was also excited about it. Fresh produce would be welcome. With a jolt, he realized putting in a garden meant they might be on this island a year from now. He thought about the woman's comments about the ELS and conditions at the crash site and knew deep down, they might be on this island until they died unless they were extremely lucky with a passing ship or plane.

"I am," Spider said after watching a number of emotions cross David's face. She could imagine what he was thinking and while she was also hoping for a rescue, she wanted to prepare for the worst case scenario. "A garden will be insurance if we aren't rescued. It will be there, providing for us, just in case."

David felt relief at the explanation and nodded. "That's a good point. If we are rescued, we just wasted some seeds, but if we aren't, we will have a wider variety of things to eat than just cattail roots."

"Variety? I suppose I can find some other cattails so we can have a variety of flavors." She looked toward the ceiling of the cave and back to the singer.

"Different cattails have different flavors," David started to question, then realized the woman was joking. He shook his head. "You had me going for a minute there."

Spider chuckled and smiled. "You were starting to wonder. I think all cattails have the same taste. I've never been able to tell the various types apart by taste alone." She studied the man's blue eyes for several minutes until he started shifting under the intense gaze. "You get my sense of humor." The woman's voice held surprise at that observation.

"You get mine," he admitted.

"I'm glad. It's depressing to put out the effort of mentally creating a joke and then delivering it and discovering no one understood the joke or became offended because they didn't even realize it was a joke."

"Isn't that irritating?"

The pair shared a laugh. Spider cleared away the last of the cattails and the scraps left by the weaving before checking and stirring the stew and adding more wood to the fire along with the cattail scraps that were too small to use. She wanted the fire to burn all night and would get up several times to check it. She shuffled the grains around in their trays and was surprised to feel that they'd already dried a bit. By morning she might be able to pack them away, although she would probably wait until evening to make sure they were completely dry. She checked outside and was relieved to see that the sky was still completely clear. The full moon lit up the area almost as well as the sun and the spray of stars was amazing. It was a sky one could never see in the city. She saw some movement in the area between the two outcroppings and wondered if something could smell the meat drying. She propped one of the metal sheets against the end of the tunnel and another against the entrance, blocking them against all but the most determined creatures. If they were knocked over, she would be awakened. The sheets would act as an early alarm system. She would try coming up with alternatives in the near future. She didn't want animals getting on the ledges or attempting to enter the cave. Just because it had been empty in the beginning and appeared to have been unused for a lengthy period of time, didn't mean it would stay that way.

"Is everything okay," David asked as the woman reentered the cave.

"Yes. The sky is so clear. It's beautiful." She smiled.

"It has to be getting late. Even as much as I slept today, I feel tired."

"It is late. A lot later than I realized." She double checked everything inside the cave before going to David's side. She moved the cases and padding aside and laid him down. "Do you have a preferred position for sleeping? On your back? One side or the other?"

"I think I'd like to sleep on my right side. The pressure seemed to help decrease the pain in my shoulder." Spider nodded. She checked his various pulses, hands, feet, and his left forearm.

"Do you have any pain in your arm?"

"Not really. It aches, but isn't that expected?" The woman nodded. "It itches."

"Itches? The skin?"

David shook his head. "No, inside. Have you ever had a really bad bruise or strained your muscles?" Spider nodded, but frowned a little. "Whenever that happens to me, it makes me itch inside."

"So, this might be a normal reaction to healing, at least for you."

"Maybe. My hand feels fine. I don't have much pain and there's no tingling like I had in my leg."

"Well, I would like to remove the brace and perform a more extensive examination in the morning when you wake up. If everything appears normal, we can write it off as a normal healing reaction."

"That sounds good," he said as his eye lids started drooping. "I really hope I stop sleeping so much. I feel as if all I do is go from sleeping on my back, to leaning against something and sleeping, and then being moved to my side to sleep some more."

"As you heal, you'll need to sleep less. Enjoy it while you can." Spider brushed her hand over his left arm and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Do you want me to sleep behind you to give you some added warmth?"

"Please." The singer sighed a little as the woman laid down behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He immediately felt her warmth penetrate his back and shoulders, relaxing the muscles there. That was another problem with laying around so much, his body tensed up. Given enough time, he started to ache and even hurt. He suspected he had suffered serious bruising when the plane broke up and he knew he wasn't in the correct body position when he hit the water. That probably caused additional injuries. His mind faded into complete relaxation within minutes and he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The building/shed is built using corrugated steel sheets, posts for electrical fencing, and electrical current fence wiring. I was able to construct a building similar to that described in the story in an afternoon. The sheets that had to be raised above my head for the roof weren't heavy, but they are extremely awkward. They were the most difficult part of the building.
> 
> As to David Bowie's shoe size, I took a guess. I'd seen him several times in concert over the years and strangely enough, it was as if his feet shrank with age. In the 1980's for Glass Spider, I thought he had huge feet stuffed into those freaky red boots, but when I saw him perform in Reality, the Vans or Converse sneakers he wore made his feet look quite small. So, without knowing the actual size shoe/boot he wore, I guessed and tried combining my perceptions over the years.


	6. December 5, 1987 - Parallel Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As David's body begins to heal, his mental state becomes a more concerning battlefield. The questions concerning the woman he's stranded with bring up memories of an event from his past that changed the direction of his previously carefree life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Vague description of a sexual assault.
> 
> I have taken significant liberties with the tour schedule for Serious Moonlight. I know the video taped show was in Vancouver, not Montreal. I was at that particular show; it was spectacular to see it live.

~~~~~

December 5, 1987

David woke and sighed softly as he discovered that he'd awakened to an empty cave. As he glanced around he realized the woman had been very busy: a stack of firewood was positioned just inside the entrance to the cave, there were several bundles of cattail leaves along one wall, the stew smelled amazing, and the animal furs were stretched on frames and leaned against another wall. He looked at the furs more closely, they looked like wolf, rabbit, and some dark brown, thick-furred animal he couldn't identify immediately. "Melanie," he called out. His body was starting to heal and was making its new condition known. "Melanie," David tried more loudly.

"David?" Spider stepped into the cave and looked at him.

"You heard me."

"I was already in the entrance. I would never have heard you otherwise." She glanced outside again before coming to his side. "How are you this morning?"

"I feel a lot stronger." He glanced toward the ceiling of the cave then turned back to the woman. "I think I'm starting to heal; at least, my body thinks it's healing."

The woman thought a moment about his word choices. "Your body is telling you this how?"

"Bathroom," the singer said softly, "I usually go as soon as I wake up."

"Ah, understood." The woman went to grab the bowl she'd used previously. "Do you usually do one before the other?"

"I pee, then sit down to finish." He barely hid his embarrassment as the woman helped him perform both actions. "It will be a relief to again be able to do this for myself."

"You've been able to do these things for yourself for a long time. You were probably two or three the last time someone had to help you."

"Yeah." He glanced toward the fire, needing to change the subject. "The stew smells really good."

Spider placed everything near the entrance to be disposed of before washing her hands. Kneeling next to the fire, she ladled out a bowl of the stew and a mug of pine tea, before smiling at the singer. She was relieved to see that he wasn't having any trouble sitting up under his own power even though he showed a few signs of discomfort at the effort it took. She picked up the basket with the remaining blueberries and moved to his side to prop him up with cases and padding. "You are getting a lot stronger. Relax," she brushed her fingers over his arm to reinforce her words, "Sitting up like that took a lot of effort, now you can relax."

David nodded and closed his eyes. After drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he again looked at the woman. "It's still such an effort."

"It will be. But, time is all your body needs." Spider stirred the stew and dipped out a spoonful. "Your body needs nutritional support, not just rest and mechanical support."

He looked at his left forearm and frowned. "Will it be enough?"

"I don't know. It comes down to your body's ability to heal now." She waited for the blue eyes to meet hers before lifting the spoon. David opened his mouth and slowly ate the spoonful. "What's wrong, David?" She'd seen the darkening of his expression as well as the flinch as he chewed the food.

"My mouth doesn't feel right."

Spider set down the bowl and spoon before grabbing the small flashlight and equipment case from the pharmacy case. "Let me look." She looked at the singer's mouth before collecting a small dental pick from the medical equipment. The woman touched several places near the pulled teeth, but David barely seemed to notice, she shifted the pick forward and brushed over the base of the first remaining tooth, causing the man to pull back violently and cry out. "I won't touch it again. Let me look." The blond kept his mouth shut and shook his head. "It's okay, David. I won't hurt you. I need to see why the tooth is causing you pain."

"Okay," David mumbled before opening his mouth while trying to keep an eye on what the woman was doing.

"There's no swelling." The woman pulled on a pair of exam gloves and started to reach for David's mouth. "David," she said with a shake of her head as he snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. "You're not a child, David." She frowned at him as he did look like a child shaking his head. "Come on." The man finally stopped his behavior and opened his mouth a little. "David," her voice held a warning tone. He opened his mouth wide enough for her to get a better look. She glanced sharply at the ceiling as if she'd seen something moving there and as she'd hoped, the singer did the same. Hooking one thumb on his lower jaw, she checked out his gum and the tooth. "You described your mouth as not feeling right, not that it's painful." She kept hold of his lower jaw, preventing him from closing his mouth completely, at least without biting her. He managed to nod at her statement. "I think the tooth was jarred from the extractions, not because it's fractured, has a cavity, or is infected."

"My jaw," David managed to mumble.

Spider laughed softly. "Let me double check the rest of your mouth." He opened his mouth completely again and she flashed the light around, poking at several other points. "Everything else looks good." She finally released his lower jaw and smiled. "I never realized you could be so childish."

"Childish?" The singer frowned at the evaluation.

"Yes, childish. No one wants to experience pain, but sometimes pain is part of what it takes to determine what is wrong, or not wrong. Explanations make things less of a mystery."

"True," David blushed slightly.

Spider decided to let the matter drop and after placing the flashlight and medical tools in the case, she tossed the dental pick into the case she was using as a sink. "Nothing but net," she hissed out with a slight fist pump. "Stew?" David nodded. "Try chewing on the left side of your mouth only." She fed him the entire bowl, then let him finish the blueberries. "Do you have a toothbrush in your carry on?"

"Probably."

"We should start brushing your teeth in the next few days. If we can keep the rest of your teeth in as good of condition as possible, hopefully we can avoid any additional extractions." She slowly helped him drink the pine tea. "Do you want to stay sitting up for a while?"

David nodded in answer. "What else are you going to do today?" He could see the woman had been up for a while and had already accomplished a lot.

"I'm going to gather more amaranth. I barely made a dent yesterday. Hopefully I can bring in three or four additional baskets of the grain, maybe more." She tilted her head toward the entrance. "I'm going to return to the sheds and bring back a few more things while getting more fire wood. That little pile won't last long. Hopefully, while I'm out, I can find a strong stick the right length that I can carve into a spear thrower." She closed her eyes and thought for a minute about other things on her agenda. "If there's time, I'm going to explore the area beyond the amaranth field. Most of the trees appear to be nut bearing. Several look as if they might be walnut trees, they still have a few leaves on them. There is also a patch of birch trees. I want to harvest some bark so I can make hard boxes to store the dried meat." She returned her gaze to the man and smiled. "I'm also going to build some storage shelves out of the metal sheets and posts. When I put the amaranth in the storage room, I realized how important it is going to be to maintain organization. There's plenty in the cargo cases and luggage that can be put into storage. Who knows, if we store it long enough, it might come in handy. Plus, I'll put the various cases in there, too."

"You're going to be gone a long time," David said softly.

"Not so long. I'll check on you when I get back from the sheds. Then, I'll return to the cave to empty the gathering basket before trying to fill it again. There is a lot of grain I can collect. Like I said, that might be three or four trips or more. I'll check on you each trip." The woman touched David's arm in reassurance. "After I finish collecting the amaranth, I'll give you some stew for lunch. Then, I want to check out the trees. I'll be gone, but not for a long time in a single stretch. I have a lot I want to get finished here at the cave today. Tomorrow, I need to try hunting some large animals. I don't know how much longer the weather is going to hold off. There was a heavy frost this morning. The sky is completely clear, not a single cloud out there, but that could change in an instant. We need more meat stored, and put up soon."

"I understand. Can you release my arm?"

"I will." Spider stood and placed the bowl and spoon in the wash water, the empty basket, she just tossed into the fire. It had served its purpose and was discolored from the blueberries. The woman bustled around the cave repositioning several items: the cattail bundles were opened and spread out, the stretched furs and hides were placed along the far walls, and additional wood was added to the fire. After checking the area outside the cave, she returned to David's side to release the bandage holding his right arm immobile. "I will not be long. Wait, I'll be right back in." She left the cave and returned with the now empty and rinsed out urinal. "Just in case," she said as she placed the item next to the singer. She added a couple of opened chocolate bars and two partially filled bottles of water. With a final brush of her fingertips along David's right arm, she left the cave.

"I'm bored," David grumbled to the empty cave. He looked around his surroundings more closely. For the first time, he closely studied the secure space Melanie had discovered. He knew where the cave entrance was located, when one entered this chamber, to their left was a long, deep section. He estimated the area was about a meter deep and maybe two meters high and stretched the width of the cave, about seven meters. The woman was already using it for firewood and the stretched furs. At the back wall of the cave, toward which he faced when sleeping on his right side, there was a slightly raised area three or four meters deep and easily six meters wide. It was being used as a staging ground for all the cases and luggage the woman had brought in and there were piles of things she'd already sorted. Next along that wall came the waterfall that fell into a pool about the size of a small hot tub or very large bathtub, the water spilled from the pool and ran along the wall until it disappeared into the floor. The rest of the floor was completely dry, so the flow of the water must have regulated over time. He turned his head as far as he could to check out the part of the cave he'd never gotten a good look at. The most distant section of the chamber was over seven meters away and held the dark hole that the woman said led to another chamber as well as a room that she was using for storage. To his left, there was a single long wall with the cave painting covering the top section onto the ceiling. It was where the medical cases were stacked. He raised his eyebrows when he realized there were more bundles of cattail leaves and hollow reeds along that wall as well.

The singer tried moving his shoulder and grimaced at the level of pain it caused. He reached for a bottle of water, opened, and slowly sipped from it. He shifted a little and was relieved when the pain decreased. Time crawled for him and unlike previous days, he didn't seem interested in sleeping. He finally studied the cave painting, hoping his mind would shutdown enough that he could either sleep or figure out something productive to do. The first must have happened, because the next thing he was aware of was the woman spreading amaranth seeds into the various drying mats. "I must have been asleep for a while," he observed aloud when he counted fifteen mats spread out on the raised area.

"You were sleeping each time I returned. It took five trips to finish collecting the amaranth," she commented. "I hope it reseeds itself and we can harvest even more next year, if we're still here."

David looked slightly confused at her comment before looking around a little more. "You got more wood and is that a chair?"

"I'll continue gathering wood. Most I'll leave outside under cover. I'm going to build a little shed for storing it. And, yes, it is a chair."

"It's in bad shape," he observed.

"It's perfect for what I plan on using it for." She smiled at David's curious expression. "I'm going to make a toilet." His blond eyebrows disappeared, making her chuckle. "If I cut a hole in the seat and shorten the legs, it should work with the bowl we're already using. In the dead of winter, we can use one half of a cargo case. Take away running water from our modern toilets, and that's really all there is to it: seat, catchment system, and disposal. The bowl will have to be manually emptied and cleaned, of course. If it's set up near the entrance, it will stay warm enough that we don't freeze our behinds off like we would in an outhouse behind a snow drift, but it won't be so far to carry it outside for disposal."

David tried picturing what she was describing and realized it made sense. "Maybe a screen for privacy?"

"That should be doable if I get enough hides. I can use posts to make a hanging system; there are tons of them for whatever reason. There wasn't enough wiring in the sheds to use them all. Maybe there are other storage sheds around here. Any drape won't be to the ceiling, but will provide privacy."

"Why would you shorten the legs?"

"It avoids having to make a stand for the bowl and a shorter seat places our bodies in healthier positions for elimination. I'd recommend that even once you're able to stand up, that you use the urinal. A man's body is designed to pee standing up. It encourages more complete elimination and helps prevent infections."

David chuckled a little. When he was a kid, he'd questioned his mother about why he had to pee standing up. She hadn't given him a real explanation, just said that peeing standing was what little boys were supposed to do. "You've made a lot of progress."

"I guess. I found two nice pieces of wood that are suitable for spear throwers. I'll make one for you as well. They make a huge difference in force and distance." She saw a brief expression of discomfort pass over the man's face. For the first time, she realized the idea of hunting and killing his own food, might not be something he'd want to do. His immediate reaction to the garden had been excitement. He'd been enthusiastic about it even if it meant they could be on the island for a long time. "David," Spider said as she approached his side and sat down cross-legged next to him, "are you uncomfortable with the idea of hunting?"

"Not really. I know where meat comes from; I understand it is necessary. I just hadn't thought about having to kill something myself. What if I can't do it when I have to?"

"A hunter's first kill is a life-changing experience. I've been hunting since I was around five and I still remember the first thing I killed for food. It was a rabbit with an arrow. It was still warm when I got to it. There was this creature that appeared alive, even with the blood on it. One minute it was alive; the next it was dead." Spider frowned a little. "It is a traumatic realization, but it also reminds you of the value of life and that taking a life, even of an animal, should not be taken lightly."

"I think I understand." He studied the woman's face and realized it was more expressive than he'd first believed. She was also flushed. "Melanie, are you all right?"

"Yes. It's just very warm in here." David didn't think it was that warm, although he still wasn't wearing anything, which might change his perspective. "I should check those trees. Gather the birch bark, at least. Once I have some storage containers, I can bring in the jerky. I'll be about an hour. Would you like to eat something before I go?"

"I can wait. I'm not that hungry yet."

"Okay." Spider stood and after adding a little more wood to the fire, left the cave with one of the large gathering baskets.

David looked at the painting. He was again surprised at the detail the artist had achieved. It took a few minutes before his eyes drifted closed and he was gently snoring. He became aware of the woman calling his name and brushing her hand over his arm, forcing his eyes open. "You're back already."

"Yes, it was a very successful exploration." She smiled at him. "Do you like nuts?"

"I like my nuts," he said with a straight face, "those of other men, not so much."

"So much for being gay," the woman scoffed.

"I corrected that. Bisexual!"

Spider started laughing. "What does it matter?"

"I think that comment hurt me with American audiences."

"Maybe with some. There are intolerant assholes all over the world. They aren't exclusive to America, although we tend to be more vocal about it." She chuckled a little more. "And, those are the wrong types of nuts."

David looked at her more closely and realized that even though she appeared completely calm, she was almost bursting with excited. "What did you find?"

"That entire area is covered with nut bearing trees. I brought back a basket of birch bark for now, but tomorrow after hunting, I'm going to start collecting nuts. The ground is covered with a variety of them: walnuts, pecans, chestnuts, cashews, acorns, hazelnuts, beech, almonds, and hickory, and there is a huge stand of pine trees that bear pine nuts. Nuts are excellent sources of starch as well as healthy fats and some protein and sugars." She shook her head as she sighed. "Whoever designed this island, knew what he was doing. He built a very balanced environment that is self-sustaining. Plants, animals, insects, birds, everything is in balance."

"You don't think it's naturally occurring?"

"No, the animals are an example of this being designed. Take the deer for instance, white tail and black tail deer have slightly different habitat preferences. They live in different areas and seldom intermingle. They don't interbreed either. There are at least three different species of wolf that I've seen on the island: gray timber, red, and Eastern wolf. Again, they typically live in different areas and do not form mixed packs. There appears to be one large pack each of the red and Eastern wolf that I've observed, but of the gray timber wolves, I'm not sure how many different packs are roaming the island. I'm shocked to see red wolves here, they have a declining population in the wild."

"So, someone brought these animals here and set them loose?"

"Some were probably already here and whoever stocked the island would have brought in additional animals. With the plants, it's not as integrated. Everything is planted in groups: various trees, the amaranth, berry canes, the blueberry bushes, etc. Evidently, whoever did this assumed mother nature would take over." Spider shrugged. "It's actually good news for us. I won't have to roam all over the island to find single plants or small groups of plants, they are all in one place. At least, they are as far as I can tell. I might be wrong and there are garden-like patches elsewhere."

"So you really weren't wanting to discuss my nuts," David deadpanned.

"Not unless there is a reason you want to discuss your nuts. I'd prefer discussing my nuts."

The singer broke out laughing, while Spider struggled to keep from smiling. "Now, there's a trick." The woman lost her battle and laughed along with David.

"It would be a trick." The woman smiled. "I'll ask again, do you like nuts? I might be able to make a porridge out of the amaranth and nuts would add flavor. I also found something else."

David nodded and looked like a little boy on Christmas morning. "What? What?"

"Honey. I mentioned that if I could find honey, I could make cakes."

"And, drizzle it on biscuits," he said as he quickly licked his lips. "May I?" He reached for the box the woman was holding. "I assume that's the honey?"

"It is." The woman uncovered the birch bark box, showing the honey, complete with comb, hidden within. She held it out so David could scoop some of the viscous fluid up and watched as he sucked it into his mouth, working his tongue over his fingers until they were clean. He never took his eyes off her face. She thought the cave was getting very warm again. "Well?"

"Very tasty." The singer was surprised he didn't get a visible reaction out of the woman. He thought he'd get accused of being cheeky again. He reached for another sample and pulled his hand back when she closed the lid, almost clipping his fingers. "What?"

"Let me get you a towel. No double dipping." She moved the box far enough away from him that he couldn't get into it and went to collect a wet towel. "You're sticky." She wiped off his fingers and hand as well as cleared the traces of honey from his face. She held the uncovered box out to him again and watched as he repeated his earlier demonstration. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes." He was surprised when she frowned and looked away. "What's wrong, Melanie?"

"Nothing. I'm not used to anyone flirting with me."

Something in the woman's voice made David think that wasn't the reason, or at least not the whole reason for her reaction. He watched her stand and set the box on the raised area. There was a stiffness to her movements that hadn't been there before. He couldn't figure out if she was in physical pain or if there was another reason for her reaction. He assumed she was still in pain although she hid it well, but she seemed to want to disappear even more. She spent almost an hour bringing in metal sheets and posts, taking them into the next chamber, and working before coming back out. "Organized?"

"A foundation for getting organized." Spider grabbed two pieces of wood and her knife along with the birch bark and settled near the singer. It only took her fifteen minutes to fashion the first storage box and quickly had six of them sitting next to her. She looked at the boxes and sighed. "This summer, maybe I can make some kerfed boxes. They stack so much better and they just look more finished. These are still serviceable, I just like those better." With a shrug, she stood and took the boxes with her, returning about twenty minutes later with the boxes filled with jerky. They were placed in storage before she returned to David's side. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes. I could eat."

The woman went to the fire and dished up a bowl of the stew. She added a mug of the pine tea and a bottle of water before coming back to the man.

"Melanie, what's really wrong?"

"Nothing, David." He didn't believe her, but allowed the topic to drop. She fed him the stew and helped him drink the tea and water. "Do you want more?"

"No, it's delicious, but I'm full. What are you going to work on now?"

"The spear throwers," the woman answered after placing the bowl in the 'sink'. "Then I'll make baskets for storing the amaranth. If I have enough leaves, I'll make some for the nuts, too."

David didn't feel the same easy communication between them that he'd felt before. He wondered if he should address things again, or at least try to address it. ' _Maybe not when she has a very big knife in her hand,_ ' he thought when Spider drew the knife and started whittling on the first piece of wood. He watched in fascination as she shaved long, thin pieces off. It reminded him of his own artwork, but her actions were practical, not just creating something to look at. About an hour later, she'd fashioned a flat, thin lever with a hook at the end and ridges where she could rest her fingers to pinch the end. It was slightly shorter than the length of her arm. "How does it work?"

Spider glanced up, like she'd forgotten he was there. "You lay a spear on top of the channel, stabilizing it between two fingers or a thumb and a finger. The hook braces in the back of the spear shaft. As you move your arm forward, the butt of the thrower rises, generating more force in the throw." She showed how it would work in slow motion. "The targeting is controlled by when you release the spear." She set the thrower to her side and spent the next forty minutes creating one for him. Now that she knew how the wood behaved under the stress of the carving, she could work more quickly and apply more force with the blade without fear of breaking or cracking the wood. Unlike hers, she fashioned actual finger loops at the front of the tool. She again demonstrated the thrower, but threaded her first two fingers through the holes. "You've never used one of these before, so the holes will make it easier for you to control it and you'll be less likely to drop it. Once you get used to it, you can decide if you need them or not."

The singer nodded in understanding. "I hope my shoulder heals enough to throw it."

"In the beginning, you'll probably use your right arm to throw it. Once your left arm is fully healed, you may choose to use it. Although, I've noticed that you use both hands and arms with equal ease. Are you actually ambidextrous or did you have nasty teachers who discouraged you of using your left hand." She shook her head at a few of her own memories. "At one time, anyone who was left handed was completely blocked from using it. They were forced to use their right hand. I'm ambidextrous, have been from infancy, but even I was discouraged from using my left hand." She air fingered a piano keyboard and smiled. "It made it easy to learn to play both hands on the piano." Her focus switched to David's right arm and shoulder. "You've had your arm loose all day. How does it feel?"

"I don't know if I was naturally ambidextrous, but yes, my teachers actively discouraged anyone from using their left hands for writing. My mother prevented me from using it to reach for things when I was a baby. So, I don't know if I would have had the dexterity I have if it wasn't for that. It always felt as if I was being persecuted or punished for being left handed. As to how it feels, it aches and itches, and there is periodic pain if I forget and move the wrong way or too much," David admitted. "I'm trying not to use it much."

"Those are good signs that it is starting to heal. It will be quite awhile before you can start practicing with a thrower, but it's ready for you." She smiled as she cleaned up the scraps of wood that had been carved away to make the throwers.

"Thank you," he said softly. The energy between them seemed more reminiscent of how it had been before he openly flirted with her. He watched as she placed the throwers closer to the entrance and added the scraps and more fuel to the fire. She returned to his side with several bundles of leaves. "Storage baskets?" She nodded without a verbal response. His eyes drifted closed as the woman quickly made the baskets and their lids. He was unaware of when he fell asleep or of Spider watching him. "Melanie?" The cave was again empty when he awoke. He looked around and noticed that most of the cattail leaves were gone as were most of the reeds. "How long was I asleep?" David rubbed his eyes and startled when the woman suddenly appeared next to him. "Don't do that. You scared me."

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. You were only asleep a couple hours."

"It's night?"

"Yes. The moon is high in the sky. It's crystal clear again tonight."

"You were outside?" He thought she'd come from behind him, not from the cave entrance.

"Earlier I was outside. Just now, I was putting things away in the back."

David nodded. "Is there plenty of room?"

Spider sat cross legged next to the man and nodded. "The colder room is almost three times the size of the raised area out here, about 650 square feet. The other outer room is double that again, so about 1300 square feet."

"Just how big is this cave?" He thought about his earlier estimates.

"Including all three rooms, I'd say at least 5,500 square feet. Maybe close to 6,000."

"I've been in houses smaller than that."

"Almost all of my houses have been smaller than that," Spider admitted. "That storage space is going to be a huge asset. I'm going to do everything I can fill it up."

"How about outside? Does the ramp lead right to the entrance?" He realized he should have paid more attention to his surroundings when the woman brought him up.

Spider shook her head. "Not directly, no. The incline leads to a long ledge, about forty feet long, maybe fifteen feet deep, thirteen meters by five meters." She tried putting the dimensions into metric measurements because she couldn't remember which system Britain used. "There's a second ledge just on the other side of that wall," she indicated the wall with the painting, "almost three times that long, but only eight or so feet deep, thirty-five meters by three meters. Still that's plenty of space to build sheds for drying meat as well as wood storage. There's enough area left over to eventually build a smoker, too. It would be nice to have some bacon. There are boar and wild pigs on the island. I've seen a couple as well as signs of their passing. The level section above is about one hundred feet by eighteen feet, thirty meters by six meters. There's plenty of room for three poles for flags as well as the signal fires. I'm not sure if it would be worth it to spell out SOS. The letters might not be large enough to be visible from an airplane." She saw David shiver at the mention of a plane.

"I'm sure whatever you decide will be the best choice." His eyes were starting to close of their own accord and he wondered why he was tired with all the sleeping he'd done that day. When he shifted his arm a little, he realized the pain in his shoulder might be a contributing factor.

"We should get some rest. Will you be all right tonight?"

David frowned. He hadn't been imagining the change in the comfort level between them. "I don't know. I've gotten used to your warmth." The woman nodded before she stood to check outside, then banked the fire, before returning to him. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable earlier. You don't have to sleep with me if you don't want to."

"It's okay. We only have each other for company. We also have no idea how long we will be here." She paused as she searched for the right words. She finally shook her head, realizing she wasn't ready to open up to the singer. "For now, just know that I'm not angry at you. I'm not uncomfortable with you, either. I meant it when I said that I'm not used to being flirted with."

For several minutes, all David could do was watch the woman's face and body language. There were times in his life where he'd been accused of being oblivious to other people's feelings. Even times when he had been crass and in many ways inconsiderate of those around him. He couldn't be that way in this situation. He didn't want to be that way. It was true that neither of them knew how long they would be here and they did only have each other. He felt there was a lot the woman wasn't saying. He was pretty certain that she was younger than he was, although sometimes her eyes looked ancient and almost distant. Over the years, he'd been with younger women, some not so legal, and some he was pretty sure weren't legal, but who had pursued him until they ran him down. At least one that certainly wasn't legal, but he was so drugged out during the time period that he couldn't even remember her. He could only take her account as truth because he had no way of disproving it, or confirming it. His thoughts traced over the types of followers, or fans, he'd encountered over his career. The seventies had the baby groupies, but what followed were the stuff of nightmares. Whereas baby groupies were usually sweet, overtly sexual followers, they tended not to be overly aggressive in their pursuit or violent once they had cornered their prey. Something changed in the eighties.

David closed his eyes as he remembered a time during the Serious Moonlight Tour where he'd been asleep in his hotel room and was awakened by someone shaking him and slapping his face. He'd panicked when he realized he was restrained at wrist and ankle by both ropes and cuffs and gagged with a towel. It was also one of the few times he regretted sleeping in the nude. If they had to remove his clothes, that should have awakened him. The four very young, barely teenage girls who had gotten into his room by some means were more aggressive sexually than any person, man or woman, he'd ever encountered prior or since. When they were finished taking their liberties with him, one of them knocked him out. After he'd regained consciousness, he seriously thought about going to the police. He decided not to because of his own sexual history; he doubted he'd be believed. Although he'd suffered cuts and bruises from the cuffs and burns from the ropes, could barely move, and had blurred vision from being knocked unconscious as physical proof of what had happened, he didn't pursue the matter. He did make certain that he had at least one bodyguard in his room at all times in the future.

His thoughts drifted through his memories, both hazy and sharp, searching for something that fit with Melanie's reaction. Privately he found it more than a little disturbing that most of his experiences with women had been sexual in nature and many of those aggressive or impersonal. He frowned when he realized that he'd experienced the complete opposite from the sexually aggressive girls: those with no sexual experience, as well. Although, the woman didn't quite act like those girls either. She seemed more confused by his flirtations, or ' _maybe that I'd want to flirt with her,_ ' he thought. "Melanie, is it okay if I flirt with you? It is part of who I am. I tend to flirt with everyone."

Spider nodded, not trusting her voice. She'd glanced toward the cave floor after her little speech, but had been aware of David's eyes studying her.

He frowned as he looked at the woman more closely. He'd assumed she was at least a decade older than Melissa, but now he wasn't sure. Her self-assured behavior to this point was at odds with her reaction to his flirting. He opened his mouth to ask about her age, then thought better of it. It was late and this could become a long conversation. David also knew he wanted a chance to think more about what little he knew about the woman. One thing he didn't have to question was her competence and her gentle way of caring for him; she made him feel cherished in a way he'd never experienced before. He frowned as he thought about the relationship he had with Melissa. He closed his eyes and silently admitted that she never made him feel this way. He also knew his friends were right, that their relationship was missing something, regardless of how beautiful and vibrant she was. He opened his eyes as Spider called his name. "Yes?"

"I thought you were already asleep." She appeared relaxed again. "How do you want to sleep?"

"My right side. I hope it helps with the pain."

"I shouldn't have left your arm unsupported for so long." She leaned David forward against her torso and quickly bound the limb back in place. She was surprised to feel him tense up for a moment before he again relaxed. He'd never done that before, and she wasn't sure what had triggered it. "Are you okay?"

David nodded and glanced away for a moment. "Just some memories I thought of earlier. I'm fine."

For a moment, Spider thought about asking if he wanted to talk about it, but decided against it. If he brought up something negative, she'd feel that she needed to reciprocate, and she knew she wasn't ready to talk about things, yet. Instead, she smiled at him and brushed her fingers through his hair. "I need to find you a brush or comb. Without that lacquer in your hair, it doesn't stand up to the pillows very well.

"I like it better this way," he admitted. "There were times, I was afraid I'd light my hair on fire when I lit a cigarette."

"I'm surprised you didn't."

"I was careful, very careful." He paused and looked confused. "I should be climbing the walls, needing a cigarette."

"Muscle relaxants can relieve withdrawal symptoms."

David broke in before she could continue. "You're giving me drugs?"

"Just the antibiotics. In some instances, a single dose of muscle relaxants short-circuits withdrawal. Well, for a short time at least."

"Really?"

Spider nodded. "Have you heard of rapid detox? It's used for heroin and other opioid addictions that have reached the point of being life-threatening without drastic interventions. It's still experimental, but in certain situations, it is useful." The man nodded. "One of the drugs used in the detox cocktail is a muscle relaxant. Without it, I think that type of detox would be too hard on most people. Even with the medical interventions, it is sometimes fatal."

"I'm glad for the relief, even if it is temporary."

"It is temporary. You will still have some pain and urges related to withdrawal, but hopefully we can manage them effectively, so you don't suffer too much." Spider got herself ready for bed, removing her boots. "Oh, that feels good." Her smile lit up the space.

"I bet." He sighed as the woman settled him on his side and laid down behind him, covering both of them with the heavy blanket that smelled like a guitar case. David smiled as her warmth penetrated his back, immediately causing him to relax. "Now, that feels good." He heard a soft chuckle behind him. He was unaware of falling asleep, even before the woman slipped one arm to cradle his head and the other fell over his chest. The one thing he was aware of was the feeling of serenity that caressed his heart and soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memories of the sexual assault David experienced is based on an actual story told me by two girls I attended school with. They claimed to have broken into David Bowie's hotel room, bound and gagged him, and proceeded to "have their way with him". I simply took their description of the event and attempted to tell it from his point of view. I have no idea if the girls were telling the truth or not, although I do know they were extremely violent sexually even with males (boys and male teachers) in junior and senior high school. The oldest girl actually showed off bloody cuffs, rope, and a towel she had in a sealed plastic bag, claiming they were from that assault. She had other similar "exhibits" that were supposedly from other musicians, sport's figures, and teachers she'd also claimed have violated.
> 
> The description of the surprise record store appearance and signing is based on an actual situation I attended during the Serious Moonlight Tour. A local radio station arranged an appearance by David Bowie and the behavior of one group of girls was exactly as described as was Bowie's condition when he finally was able to escape. I was at the show later that evening and while he did go down hard when he tripped over a wire on stage, he was not pulled completely off the stage by that same group of girls. His bodyguard was able to prevent that from happening. However, those girls did manage to become excessively physical with him prior to the bodyguard's intervention.
> 
> The conversation about "nuts" was inspired by a conversation I had with Sailor on BowieNet. Those who are familiar with BowieNet and especially BowieChat know Sailor was David Bowie's handle there. I have no idea if I was actually chatting with Bowie due to the fact it was text only with no video. But, a group of us were having an inane conversation about various types of nuts that we liked to add to our porridge and a PM popped up with the question "Do you like nuts?" and I played along following the I like my nuts conversation. I thought it would be a welcome counterpoint to the seriousness of David's negative memories.
> 
> Now, the next question would have to be, since I was on BowieChat and had conversations with Sailor, himself, why didn't I ever verify the story those girls told me. Well, how would you open that conversation? "Hey, Sailor, Mr. Bowie, I had these very weird, sexually aggressive female acquaintances in junior high school who claim they raped you on the Serious Moonlight Tour. Did that actually happen?" I don't think that would have gone over very well. It's not a topic that's comfortable to contemplate, let alone actually question a man about.
> 
> The information about rapid detox is mostly accurate. I've never read that it helps with nicotine withdrawal, but more forms of the treatment do utilize a variety of medications including a muscle relaxant.


	7. December 6, 1987 - Crisp Morning Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question remains, will David and Spider have enough time to collect all the resources they need to survive the winter? A change in direction gives reason to question if they can. Reading is a welcome distraction when healing begins to take hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Clan of the Cave Bear is the first book of the Earth's Children series written by Jean M. Auel. The next two books of the series The Valley of Horses and The Mammoth Hunters will be mentioned further along in the story. I recommend the books if one is interested in prehistoric Earth or just in reading a great series. In chats on BowieNet, these books came up a few times in conversations and on at least two occasions, Sailor mentioned that he'd read several books in the series and enjoyed them. Based on that, I figured including them in the story was appropriate and fit with David Bowie Cannon.

~~~~~

December 6, 1987

David shivered slightly as he woke. It was so different from other mornings, that he found it disturbing and disorienting. He looked around, expecting the cave to be empty as it had been on most mornings, but the woman was kneeling next to the fire, adding more wood and stoking the flames higher. "Melanie?"

"The temperature dropped overnight and the wind shifted." Her explanation was delivered in an apologetic tone and her face was flushed in embarrassment. "I need to get that hide cured and hung to keep the wind out. I assumed that the wind direction would stay relatively consistent until winter settled in."

"Maybe it is settling in," David offered as he snuggled deeper into the blanket, wishing that his arm was unbound so he could pull it closer. His left arm and hand weren't capable of grabbing the heavy fabric.

Spider looked at the openly shivering singer. "I hope not. We won't survive without more preparation." She looked away from his gaze and studied the cave floor. "We would be lucky to survive a month with what we already have in. It's so late in the season." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"Your knowledge will be enough." The woman looked back and saw the certainty in David's eyes. "The promise you made: keep me safe, right? You always keep your promises."

"If it's at all possible, I do." Spider frowned slightly as she stood and walked over to the singer's side, sitting cross-legged next to him. "My original promise was to get you home. I guess now, my promise does need to be to keep you safe, help you heal, and maybe, I can eventually get you home."

"If anyone can do it, you can," David said in a tone that made it sound like a foregone conclusion.

"I need to keep feeding the fire, but I'll get you more blankets first." Spider stood and returned with additional blankets, all smelled like guitar cases, not necessarily vintage leather ones, although a couple did. "The cave will warm up. I'm going to work on the elk hide. It doesn't need to be worked to softness, just to the point where it won't decompose right away." She went to the area just to the left of the entrance and grabbed the large elk hide on its frame.

"What will you do?"

Spider settled the frame against the wall nearest the fire and grabbed a piece of wood that had a rounded tip. "I already scraped the fat and flesh from the inside. I'm leaving the hair on the outside," she lifted the frame away from the wall so David could see the fur, "that will help with insulation." She laid it back against the wall and held up the wood. "I'd usually use antler or bone instead of wood, but this is what I found." She demonstrated as she described what she was doing and why. "I placed the frame in the sun yesterday to allow it to dry. Moisture is at the root of decay, so eliminating it helps in preservation. By stretching the hide, I push the remaining water out and impart some flexibility. If leather isn't stretched, it becomes rawhide and is extremely stiff. I'm only going to work this hide until it is semi-flexible. I don't want it to be to stiff, but it doesn't have to be soft enough to wear."

"Ah, yeah, stiff leather wouldn't be very comfortable." David snuggled deeper into the blankets; the cave still seemed chilly and there was a draft he couldn't remember feeling before.

"The wolf, rabbit, and wolverine furs are outside in the sun. I'll start working with them as well, but they need to be very soft to use as clothing." Within minutes, Spider had worked up a sweat. Each stroke of the wood stick looked as if it would push through the hide, but somehow the hide flexed without puncturing. After almost an hour of work, she realized that David was calling her. "David? I'm sorry, you need to eat."

"Not just eat," he admitted. After the woman cared for his personal needs and propped him up, she went to the fire and ladled out a bowl of soup and a mug of pine tea. "What's in the stew today?"

"It's more of a soup. It has cattail roots, rabbit meat, some elk jerky, and I tried making amaranth noodles."

"Noodles?" David's bleached blond eyebrows disappeared. "Doesn't that take flour?"

"Yes," Spider admitted, "I used a pair of rocks to grind up some grains until they were near the consistency of flour, added a little water, and a little salt."

"Salt? From the ocean?"

"No, I always swipe a bunch of salt, pepper, and condiment packages from fast food restaurants. They're stashed in most of my guitar cases, luggage, backpack, even my pockets at times." She smiled at him. "I just used one of the salt packets. It was almost time for me to swipe more, so I don't have a lot of them. We'll have to stretch them out, but salt is a necessary part of keeping us healthy. In the winter, we won't lose as much through sweating, but if it gets hot during the summer, we will then."

"What happens when we run out?"

"Salt, from the ocean," Spider said with shrug. "There's plenty there for the taking. We take ocean water, place it in a container in the sun, and wait for the sun to evaporate the water away. It is time consuming and we have no way to determine any impurities, but most pollution comes from human contamination. I will start harvesting salt daily in the summer, even if we haven't run out yet. Hopefully the sun will be hot enough to evaporate at least a bowl each day. There won't be much salt in each batch, but it will add up over the days. Once I've determined amount and length of time per batch, I'll add additional bowls or trays or whatever ends up being the most effective way to harvest it. Salt doesn't go bad and it is worth its weight in gold."

David chuckled. "Guess there are positives to not being around other people. Didn't salt used to be used as currency?"

"It was used as currency in several civilizations. I believe Ancient Rome used it to pay their troops and for trade. If you harvest it from the ocean, you really learn why it was so valuable." She frowned when she thought about David's first comment. "Yes, there are positives to not being around other people," the woman paused and scrunched up her forehead, "but if we were around other people, we wouldn't have to worry about where to get salt."

"Ah, there is that." The singer welcomed the heat from the soup. "Those noodles aren't bad." He smiled as another spoonful was placed in his mouth. It only took him fifteen minutes to polish off the bowl. "Maybe a little more?"

"Of course," Spider went to the fire and quickly returned with another bowl. Fifteen minutes later, David had finished that bowl as well and sighed as he settled back against the supporting cases and padding. "That was delicious."

"I'm glad you like it."

The two looked at eat other and said together, "and it's not fish." After sharing a laugh, David settled into a bit of a half-sleep while the woman returned to work on the hide. His eyes snapped open as the woman stood and stretched some time later. He realized he'd actually fallen asleep. He watched as Spider removed the hide from the frame: it wasn't extremely flexible, but it wasn't stiff either. It looked as if it could have been folded with relative ease, but didn't look soft enough to wear.

"Melanie?" The woman looked toward David. "How will you hang it?"

"I already pounded a pair of posts on either side of the entrance and placed another across the top. I'll use a length of wire to sew through the hide and wrap around the top bar. It should work very much like a curtain. It can be pulled back if the wind isn't blowing in or if it is warm outside. I'll need to add some weights on the bottom so it doesn't blow around as much." Spider moved to David's side and checked him over. She was happy to discover that he'd warmed up under the additional blankets combined with the heat from the fire. "Would you like me to unwrap your arm?"

"I'm not sure. It really feels good right now." He looked away and thought he sounded like a spoiled child who expected to be waited on hand and foot. "Although, maybe for a little while?" He felt pitiful and weak.

"We won't overdo it today. I want your shoulder to heal. I'm getting a very late start, but I need to try hunting today. The sky is still clear and even though the wind is blowing and it's very cold, I think it might be a good day to find more meat."

"I understand. If my arm isn't restricted, I can at least relieve myself and get something to drink." He shook his head and looked away. "I'm so useless."

"Stop," Spider's normally gentle voice held a hint of sharpness, "you are not useless, David. You're injured, but you're already starting to heal. Give your body time. Once you're completely healed, I'll put you to work. I promise," she said with a cheeky smile as he looked at her.

"You promise?" The woman nodded in answer as she released his arm and checked the limb over. "How's it look?" He'd watched for a change in her expression during the evaluation, but there wasn't one.

"It still doesn't feel one hundred percent, but it does feel stronger than it did yesterday. The bones haven't separated the way they did when the arm was left unsupported in the shelter." She felt along his chest and upper back and frowned at the tension in the muscles. "Does your chest and back hurt?"

"They feel tight."

Spider nodded. "I'll give you a gentle massage tonight. Your muscles are very tight and that could contribute to pain as well as cause the shoulder to be slower in healing or even prevent it from healing." She smiled at his worried look. "Don't worry," she gently brushed over David's upper arm, "take a few deep breaths and try to relax. I'd also like to try putting some clothes on you later. They will be inconvenient when taking care of personal needs, but they will help keep you warm if the fire should go out again."

"There were clothes in my carry on?"

"No, I'm sorry. There was an undershirt, a very thin, thread-bare undershirt at that. You don't repack your bag very often." She saw embarrassment cross the singer's face. "I did find a brush and toothbrush, so your hair won't look like you put your finger in a light fixture. We can work on that tonight."

"So, what will I wear."

"You and I are very close in size. I tried on your red pants and they fit me."

"Women's clothes? I thought that fashion trend was in my past."

"Who said women's clothes. I shop in the men's department. At least men's clothes actually fit me. The variety of measurements mean I don't have to worry about the length being too short, or the hips being too large, and I get the right waist circumference. It saves me so much time altering my clothes. I'm too cheap, well frugal, to pay to have my things altered professionally. And, everything I've ever bought in the women's section has to be altered. Buying men's wear is just easier."

"I hadn't thought about that. Because you're tall and thin, women's clothes wouldn't fit you correctly."

"I'm not thin, but I am tall. I might have to put in a hem or take in the waist, but they should be okay until we can figure out something better." She was glad when David smiled. "We have time until you're up and around. Right now, I want to make sure you stay warm if this hide shouldn't work as intended." She flipped the hide over her arm before standing. "I need to get this hung. Then, I'll see if I can find more food."

"Is it cold enough out that you could just let the meat freeze instead of drying it?"

"I'd rather dry it. If it's frozen, I'll have to hack pieces off larger ones. Also, we can't guarantee that the weather will stay this cold. If it warms up enough to thaw out the meat, we could lose all of it. At least if its dried, we have it safely stored inside and can use it without preamble. Once we're certain winter has set in fully, I might store some meat frozen, if I can make protection for it."

David nodded, her words made sense to him. He watched as she went to the entrance and picked up a few things that had been prepositioned there before she disappeared into the little alcove. He heard a few sharp curses that barely reached his ears, but about thirty minutes later the woman reentered the cave, sucking on two of her fingers. "What happened?"

"Wire is nasty," she hissed before returning the fingers to her mouth.

"Guitar string?" He knew how easily one could be cut on the temperamental wire.

"No, but that can be nasty, too." Spider dug into a medical case and emerged with several plasters, wrapping them over the still seeping fingertips. "I'll need to remember to wear exam gloves when I cut up my kills."

"Thinking positive?"

"Yes, but we need me to be successful. Hopefully, today will be a good day. It is already looking up," she said as she glanced toward the fire and entrance. The fire had burned down a lot already, but the cave was feeling significantly warmer with the screen in place. "If I can get an elk or moose, I'll hang the fur from that one as well. This one barely covers the entrance. A second one will be a guarantee."

"It feels good without that breeze." David looked around. "You'll get ready and leave now?"

"Yes. I'll leave a couple partial bottles of water, a mug of pine drink," she was careful to avoid the word tea, "a few chocolate bars, and I found a few books a friend of mine gave me. I haven't looked at them yet, but she thought they might be useful for the prehistoric medicine class. They're fiction, so I don't know how they would be helpful, but I didn't want to seem ungrateful. If you get bored, you can read them."

"I love books; I'll definitely read them. Why would they be useful for your class?"

"They're supposed to be set in the last ice age period in prehistory and I guess the author is very into research. She is trying to make everything as accurate as possible." Spider shrugged.

"Maybe I'll learn something." David smiled. The woman just shrugged again and moved to gather everything, setting the items within easy reach of the singer, adding wood to the fire as well. "Good luck hunting."

"Thank you. I'll be back as soon as possible." Spider shrugged into a sweat shirt before gathering up the atlatl and several spears in a small rolled pack. The last thing she added was the backpack, before double checking that everything was secure. "Be careful, David."

David shivered slightly as she disappeared out the entrance, a gust of chilly wind rushed into the cave causing the fire to gutter slightly, then flare when it wasn't buffeted anymore. He was relieved that the discomfort they'd experienced yesterday hadn't resurfaced today and he relaxed under the warm blankets, but boredom quickly took over his mind and he debated about what he should do. His body really was starting to heal, he wasn't tired. "Clan of the Cave Bear," he read as he looked at the surprisingly thick book the woman had left for him. It didn't look like the normal fare he'd pick to read, but he couldn't be choosy. It wasn't as if he could run down to the bookstore and find something more to his liking. He rolled to his left side and opened the cover. Several hours later, he didn't care that the book wasn't his normal fare and discovered prehistoric earth could be very interesting.

"David," Spider tried again to get the singer's attention. She didn't want to startle him; he was so engrossed in the book that he hadn't realized she'd returned. "David." This time he looked around. Her louder tone broke his focus. "Enjoying it?"

"Very much. I think the book could be good for your class. It has a lot of information in it, but it isn't dry." He smiled. "You'd have to figure out the accuracy though. If it is accurate, I have no idea how you're going to get everything finished for winter."

"Well, I'm sure there are more than two people to prepare for in the story. More people to prepare for, the more you have to store." She grinned. "I'll check the books out after everything else is finished."

"Did you find anything?" David tried to make his voice light, but inside he was nervous that she'd been unsuccessful.

"A lot. I need to practice more, but I was able to get two elk. I've already skinned them and stretched the hides, I'll clean them tomorrow as well as start drying the meat."

"Will that be enough for the winter?" He frowned when she shook her head. "It's a lot of meat, though, right?"

"It is, but remember, we should avoid hunting in the spring because the animals will be very lean. If we put in a garden, that will be physically demanding. We'll need to have fat in our diets or else we can starve."

"Protein starvation."

Spider looked surprised at his comment. "Yes, most people assume that if you eat, you won't starve. It's possible to fill in nutritional holes with other foods, but fat is the easiest. We can supplement with fresh meat, but I'd like to have a buffer."

"I read a lot. There was a story about a plane crash in Alaska or somewhere I read and the survivors only ate rabbits. Almost all of them eventually died. It makes sense that animals would be lean in the spring. They live off the fat they build up in autumn." David nodded and looked at the woman. "You look tired. How late is it?"

"Very late. I was out a lot longer than I wanted to be. I had to use my flashlight to find my way home. I wish there was a way to recharge the batteries in it, or else that I'd thought to carry several sets of spares. I have one set of spares, but if I stay out late often, they won't last long." She frowned as she realized he had to be hungry. "You didn't drink your water, eat, or anything. The book was that good?"

"It was, but even better it kept my mind occupied."

The woman smiled at his comment. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really." He shook his head. "If we're going to sleep now, I shouldn't eat."

"David, you need to remember to eat and drink if I'm not here."

"I'll try. Come to bed." He flipped the dust cover leaf between his pages and closed the book before pushing it away. "Are you going to eat something?"

"No, I'm not hungry. I'm just tired. I will unpack though." She quickly removed the two empty water bottles from her pack and set them near the little pool before placing the backpack near the entrance, adding more wood to the fire as she passed it. She sat down near David and removed her boots. "Let me wrap your arm back up. Do you want to sleep on your left side?"

"No, I've been laying on it all day. Could you help me turn over?"

"Of course." Spider quickly wrapped his arm and helped him rest on his right side before crawling under the single blanket, the rest were unnecessary with the cover at the cave entrance. The fire was more than enough to heat the space. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

David's rest was longer in coming. He realized that he'd definitely overdid it. His shoulders ached and he could feel how tight his back and chest were. Whenever he just laid around, boredom wasn't his only problem. He'd always been hyper and that translated into physical activity. Without the release of movement, his body didn't know what else to do, so it tightened up causing him pain. Groans escaped his lips several times as he tried relaxing his muscles as much as possible. For a moment, he grumbled that he was supposed to get a massage tonight. He silently cursed himself for even thinking about it; the woman was exhausted. Eventually, his body relaxed enough that he drifted off to sleep, but it wasn't a deep, restful sleep. His few dreams were disturbing and he kept jerking awake with strange images in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on making leather: The leather making process typically takes significant amounts of time and effort. While using a rapid technique such as described in this chapter is possible, it is not the recommended method for making leather that will last in the long term. In furs, it is even less so because it does not result in a weather-resistant finish to the leather. Most modern leather is treated with dangerous chemicals that are bad for the environment as well as for any living thing that comes in contact with them. While modern leather is resistant to rot and the weather, it can off-gas dangerous chemicals that many people are sensitive to.
> 
> The oldest known techniques for leather process were using fat or the animal's brain, mashed into a liquefied state and allowed to start decomposing instead of chemicals. In both ancient techniques, the resulting leather would be extremely soft and supple with the texture of buckskin. It would also be safe to be used as clothing or to fashion cooking pots and other items. Fat finishing has a tendency to have significant variations in color depending on the consistency of the fat. Brain finishing is a little easier to maintain consistency and creates a slightly softer and more supple product that can have a shine to it if ocre coloration is mixed with it. Both techniques require almost constant kneading of the leather while it is stretched on a frame. The kneading releases liquid from the leather and promotes flexibility.
> 
> Amaranth noodles are possible to make, but their cooking time in a soup is slightly longer than a fresh-made wheat noodle. The have a rich earthy taste that is similar to a soba noodle (buckwheat) although it does tend to absorb a lot of the flavor from whatever meat is used in the soup. I did try using them as a "spaghetti" with red meat sauce and they were a wonderful flop. They were unable to hold their texture or be easily eaten because they kept breaking apart. However, they were still quite tasty. A better solution to using amaranth flour would be to mix it with wheat flour, the resulting noodles were excellent; although they would not fit for this point in the story.
> 
> Processing the seeds into flour would be time consuming and physically demanding. However, it can be done quite easily using two relatively flat rocks that can be ground together. Wash the rocks well to remove any dirt, place a small handful of seeds on the bottom one, and then grind the other rock into the seeds. The seeds should be as dry as possible (many people like to roast seeds to dry them completely or age the seeds on a mat) so the result is flour not paste. The heavier the top stone, the faster the seeds are ground into flour, but the more strength and energy needed to complete the work.
> 
> The information surrounding salt is historically accurate. Many other civilizations have used salt as a currency. It can be harvested from the sea in much the way described. Salt is a necessary component in maintaining health and wellness. It is lost through sweat and to a lesser degree via urination, saliva, and other bodily secretions, however sweat is typically the heaviest contributor. Not having enough salt in the form of sodium in the body can result in muscle cramping, problems in nerve signalling, and in the most extreme cases death.
> 
> I tried hanging a leather "curtain" using fence wire and ended up tearing up my fingertips as well as piercing my palm and fingers in several places. Initially, I attempted to use guitar wire, but only the low e-string (string six) was strong enough to stand up to repeated drawing of the curtain. In this story, I reserve the e-strings as secondary "saw" blades, so didn't think Spider would have tried it. Also, the fence wire could be as long or as short as necessary. It just seemed to make more sense in the grand scheme of things.


	8. December 7, 1987 - Questions Seeking Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider's behavior raises questions in David's mind, making him wonder what experiences the woman has had in her past. He discovers the extent of his injuries and the visual evidence of the damage as he gets the chance to go outside and see the new world they are part of now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The role of Baal is mentioned in this chapter. David Bowie played the part in the 1982 TV movie that was shown on the BBC. The movie is an adaptation from Bertolt Brecht play, Baal. David Bowie performed the music in the movie and then re-recorded the music for the play on an EP, Baal. If you haven't seen it, check it out, but be prepared for a very different character for David Bowie to play.
> 
> The Man Who Fell To Earth is a novella by Walter Tevis that was made into a movie in 1976, staring David Bowie in the lead role of Thomas Jerome Newton. The movie takes a slightly different path from the written work, but both result in a tragic outcome for the main character. Bowie was visually perfect for the role, alien, angular, and exotic in appearance, but was significantly shorter than the alien was described in the story. Still, the movie version was well done as long as you see the European cut. The American edit was butchered to put it kindly. The story is not told in a linear fashion, but still relates the facts in such a way that they build into a tragic drama with strange hints of humor, romance, and a very human alien. Again, if you haven't seen it, check it out. In many ways, David Bowie doesn't act in the movie, just does his thing since this was filmed at the height of his drug use and the most self-alienated period in his life.

~~~~~

December 7, 1987

David woke with a start. The first thing he realized was that the woman was still holding him and she seemed to be asleep. The second thing was that she was shaking and he could swear she was crying. "Melanie," he said softly. He didn't want to startle her. After several attempts, he brushed his bandaged left hand over the arm she'd draped over his shoulder. "Melanie," he tried one more time.

"What?"

He sighed in relief, but he thought her voice sounded disoriented. "Melanie, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Spider pulled her arm back and swiped over her eyes, surprised at the wetness of unshed tears.

The singer could hear the confusion in her voice, even with so few words. "Are you all right? Was it a dream? A memory? Are you in physical pain?"

"I do have pain; I haven't fully healed. The other questions," he could feel her shrug because of her closeness, "I don't know." The woman disentangled her other arm from beneath David's head before shifting to kneel behind him. "I need to make a sleeping platform. Sleeping on the floor is not fun. I'm getting too old for this," she mumbled before struggling to her feet, both knees cracking loudly and her back felt like it was creaking.

"How old are you," David asked without thinking. He caught himself, but the words had already escaped.

"I'm thirty-two," the woman said without any hesitancy.

"You're a baby. Think how you'll feel when you're my age."

"You're only eight years older than I am, and you look younger than I do. No one would guess you're forty, David." Spider laughed softly as she went to the fire and stirred the banked coals, feeding them small curls of wood, cattail fluff, and eventually twigs and small sticks. It only took a few minutes to turn the red coals into a happily burning fire. "I hate to think how I'll feel by the time I'm forty. I've put my body through a lot over the years. I don't know how you could do that performance for Glass Spider night after night. I would never be able to dance like that or move the way you do." She had returned to his side and sat cross-legged next to him. She helped him sit up and dealt with his morning habits. "What would you like for breakfast? We have elk, I can cook some rabbit, or I can try to catch a fish."

"Gods forbid!" He realized she'd been joking on the last choice after his exclamation. "Rabbit?"

"Are you asking or is that what you want?"

"Well, I don't think I've had just rabbit. It was always mixed in with elk in the soup."

"It tastes quite good. I'll be back." She walked to the entrance and picked up a long piece of heavy fabric and a pouch.

"Where do you have to go?"

"To kill a rabbit or two," she shrugged and added, "or three."

"I thought you already had the rabbit."

"No, I only killed elk yesterday. The rabbits from before were already eaten."

"Melanie, I'll have the elk."

"Rabbits are all over the place, David. I walk outside, there will probably be ten or twelve of them hopping around." She approached the man who was struggling to move around. "Stop," her voice was commanding, "please, stop," she finished in a soft, almost apologetic tone as she lifted him and moved the cases and pillows around so he could lean against them and be supported.

"You have too much to do. You don't have to hunt rabbit, wabbit," he added in a cartoon voice. He realized the woman didn't get the reference and only looked confused. "It's from Bugs Bunny. Loony Toons? Saturday morning cartoons?"

"I wasn't allowed to watch television as a child. I never got into it as an adult." Spider glanced away in embarrassment.

"Oh, that's probably a smart thing." He struggled against the bandage holding his right arm. He wanted to reach out to her. Eventually, he reached across his body and brushed his wrapped left hand over her arm. "Melanie," he questioned when she jerked away and glanced at him with fear in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I can't, right now, I can't," she mumbled as she glanced away again.

David looked on with concern. He'd felt something had changed in the woman ever since he'd blatantly flirted with her. He focused more closely on the smaller signals she gave off and became more concerned. Her breathing seemed erratic, she was flushed, and her body shook slightly. She looked terrified of him. "Please, Melanie."

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about it. I really can't." She stood and gathered the fabric and pouch again and quickly moved toward the entrance again.

"What is that in your hand?" David didn't want things to end on such a negative note and was willing to grasp at anything. The long strip of fabric seemed familiar.

"This?" She held up the fabric and saw the singer's answering nod. "It's a sling. Once I have some leather, I'll make a real one. It's used to throw rocks at high velocity and increases the power behind the strike." She held it up so he could see the full length. From her arm outstretched above her head, the opposite end almost reached the floor. "It multiplies the force imparted, just like the atlatl, the projectile is different."

"Yeah, I know what it is. It's mentioned in that book," he waved his hand toward the book near his head.

"Really. Maybe there is more to those books than just a story set in prehistory."

"I thought it seemed to be an interesting weapon." David was relieved that Melanie seemed a little less stressed talking about the weapon. "Is it hard to learn?"

"It's easy to learn, very hard to master. I've been using similar ones since I was four or five."

"It just takes practice?"

"Yes. Lots and lots of practice. It's significantly more difficult than a spear, either with or without a thrower, but it is only useful on small targets."

"In the book, the author mentions nothing larger than a lynx."

"I can't imagine using this on a lynx or mountain lion."

"Maybe? Or is the story fibbing a little."

"I don't know. Just because I can't image it, doesn't mean it can't be done." She frowned and thought about the impact that would be required to kill a lynx with a stone projectile. "Maybe," she finally said with a nod. "Now, I'm going to catch breakfast. Eventually, I'll set traps and snares. I need to understand the movement of wildlife in the area before I determine where to set them." She smiled at the man before quickly exiting the cave. A small breeze entered the space when she pushed aside the windbreaker, but it was cut off as the hide again blocked it.

David sat silently, watching the entrance as he thought about the woman's words and reactions from earlier. He suspected he was seeing more of the picture, but he didn't have all the pieces. He did have his suspicions though. He closed his eyes and thought, ' _if I'm right, she's more than uncomfortable being flirted with,_ ' he opened his eyes and realized with a shock that her heavy combat boots were still resting next to the bed. "She went out in bare feet," he whispered softly. He wondered if she was that distracted by the morning's events. "Melanie," he glanced up as another breeze rushed around him. "That was quick."

"I told you, they're all over the place. I only had to walk to the bottom of the ramp and there were at least twenty of them for the picking. Rabbits really do breed, well, like rabbits." She held up four of the creatures tied into a bundle.

"Still, that was fast."

"I know. Why do you think I offered to cook rabbit for breakfast?" She settled near the fire and quickly skinned and quartered one of the rabbits before placing the pieces in the skillet over the now lower burning fire. While it sizzled, she skinned the other three animals and placed the carcasses in one half of a case she'd removed the hinge pins from. She flipped the pieces that were cooking and stood, taking the case to the entrance and leaving it. A few minutes later, she returned to the fire with lengths of steel posts that she formed into a frame and stretched the furs on them. After checking the rabbit cooking over the fire, she took the furs outside, returning empty handed. Thirty minutes later, she dished out the medium rabbit on a plate. She looked at David after standing and thought about what had happened earlier. She was uncomfortable over her reaction to such a light touch and suspected the intelligent man was attempting to put the various pieces he was learning together. Inside, she cursed herself for allowing her carefully constructed walls to crumble, walls she'd spent decades erecting, strengthening, and reinforcing. All coming down because of a gentle, caring touch by a man who was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger.

"It's okay, Melanie. I won't do anything." David kept his voice low and soft and tried to be reassuring. "I want to be here for you." He saw the shift in the woman's expression and thought about his own reaction to having his arm bound from two nights ago. He drew in a shocked breath and was relieved that the woman had already looked away and appeared not to notice. His sudden insight into what may be at the root of Melanie's reactions fit so well with what had caused his own that he knew he had to tread lightly. He'd only told one person about what had happened to him and he knew she would never tell anyone; based on the woman's response to a simple touch, he had his doubts that Melanie had told even a single soul about what had happened to her. He admitted to himself that if she had told someone, the other person had probably ignored her cries for help.

Spider's voice caught in her throat and she glanced toward the floor of the cave before again meeting the singer's crystal blue eyes. After picking up silverware, she brought the plate with the rabbit over to where David was still seated and settled cross-legged next to him. She used the fork to separate the meat from the bone and carefully double-checked that the tender meat was completely separate from any gristle, bone, or tough portions. His mouth wasn't healed and the extra care would hopefully spare him discomfort while eating. She lifted the first morsel to his mouth and waited patiently for him to accept it.

"Melanie, aren't you going to eat something?" David looked over the woman's face and frowned when he realized the increased expressiveness he'd been noticing had disappeared. He now looked into a face that was bordering on gaunt with haunted gray eyes that wouldn't look directly at him. "Melanie," he prompted again.

"I'm not really hungry. I've never been a morning eater." The woman's words sounded hollow, but hinted at sincerity.

David opened his mouth and tasted the first bite of breakfast. After chewing it several times and swallowing it, his face lit up and he smiled widely. "That's delicious!" He was rewarded with a gentle smile and nod from Spider. After several additional bites, he shook his head slightly. "Could I have something to drink?"

"Of course." Melanie stood and went to the water pool to ladle out a mug of fresh water. She returned to his side and gave him several sips.

"I was hoping for the pine tree tea." He accompanied the comment with a cheeky grin.

"Later today. I have to collect more pine needles. I'm also going to bring in other parts of the trees so we have them during the winter. The bark is a great drink for dealing with coughs as well as colds and the flu." She smiled.

David chuckled softly and shook his head. "I thought you would comment on my use of the word tea."

"It was surprising, but in the most basic definition of the word tea, it would be tea. Although, using the most basic definition many things would also be tea: coffee, soda, some juices, etc." At his furrowed brows, she leaned forward slightly. "The most basic definition of tea is any drink made using a combination of a liquid and at least one additional ingredient heated to bring out the full range of flavor."

"I guess I do like tea." David laughed softly. "I do love coffee."

"I'm surprised you're not suffering from caffeine withdrawal."

"I think I am a little. I have a headache and my body feels stiff."

Spider nodded and glanced over his face, neck, and torso. "You are holding yourself more rigid this morning. I need to do something to release your tense muscles. Inactivity can cause the body to lose some flexibility as well as strength. Once I can release your arm permanently, you'll need to exercise it and work the joints through full-ranges of motion." She startled when she noticed she was still holding the plate with the rabbit and the fork. "I got distracted. Finish this before it gets cold."

"Okay." The man did as prompted and ten minutes later, the rabbit had been eaten. He watched as the woman placed the plate and utensils in what had quickly become the sink for washing dishes. He was surprised when she returned with a small wrapped chocolate cake. "My weakness, chocolate!"

Melanie chuckled as she unwrapped the snack. "You have a sweet tooth, David. Do you ever gain weight?"

He smiled around the first bite of the cake and shook his head. "I have always had difficulty maintaining weight. It never mattered how much I ate. I never gained much and I have never gained above a certain point."

"You're lucky. Some of us have the opposite problem. I've never been able to lose weight. I barely eat, exercise as much as possible, watch every morsel I place in my mouth, but I've always been heavy."

David blinked several times and he wore a confused expression. "What are you talking about?" He realized after the words had left his mouth how tactless they sounded.

"It's okay, David. I've heard it my entire life and have learned to accept it. I just try to keep myself as healthy as I can even though I'm heavy."

"No, you're not heavy. Right now, you're bordering on gaunt. You need to eat more." He could see his words weren't reaching her and even if they did, she wouldn't be able to believe them. After a moment, he finished the rest of the snack cake while studying the woman's face seeking any expression that would communicate what she was thinking. She was a blank slate again, as she'd appeared when he'd awakened in the raft. "What are you going to do today, Melanie?"

"I need to get the elk sliced up so it can dry. Then, I'm going to harvest needles, bark, and inner strips from some pine trees. The rest of the rabbit, I'm going to roast." She thought a moment and frowned slightly. "Hopefully the sun will be warm enough to dry the furs so they can be worked. I got a couple more wolf furs yesterday, so I think I have enough to make you a coat. You're so thin. I hope you gain some weight. It'll help you maintain your body temperature. Even a thin layer of fat can help insulate the body."

"I'll try. I can't promise anything." He was relieved when Melanie smiled and chuckled softly.

"I also need to see about relaxing your muscles. I don't like hearing about your headache; muscle and joint stiffness can slow your healing." The woman nodded toward his shoulder. "Would you like me to release your arm?"

David nodded. A low groan escaped his throat as the weight of his arm drew his shoulder down. A grimace came to his face when he tried shifting his arm, shoulder, and neck to relieve some of the pain and stiffness.

"Don't move too much," Melanie prompted as she stood and went to the raised area, returning after picking several things up. At the singer's surprised glance, she smiled shyly. "It's the closest thing to massage oil we have."

"I'm sure. But, strawberry flavored?" He laughed heartily at her shocked expression. "It's okay, but I doubt either of us plan on tasting it."

"Of course not. I just didn't realize they were flavored." She looked at the other bottle and realized it was banana flavored. "I doubt they'd taste very good."

"Actually," David began before catching himself.

"Actually, what?" The woman's voice sounded so innocent.

"Well, some of them do taste pretty good." He had the courtesy to blush and looked away.

"Oh," Melanie drew the single syllable into several while looking slightly horrified. "Oh," short and sweet as the woman imagined what the man was referring to. "You don't have to taste either of these."

"Still, use the strawberry. Banana tasted rank, if I remember correctly. Although, those are different brands, so it might not taste bad. Never mind, use the strawberry. I love them."

"You like strawberries and blueberries. How about other berries?" Melanie asked as she visually inspected David's neck, shoulders, and chest.

"All." David grimaced and tensed up as he was shifted forward to lean against the woman's body.

"Relax," the soft prompt was accompanied by a gentle brush of fingers in the singer's ruffled hair.

"I'm trying." He groaned as the woman's strong fingers traced over his back. He gasped as she located a particularly knotted point and pressed into it. The touch was light and gentle, but it was enough to send painful waves through his back, chest, and neck. "Melanie," David's voice bordered on a cry as the pain intensified before releasing suddenly. "What was that?"

"I'm sorry for the pain. It was a knotted muscle. You had heavy bruising of your upper back and the muscle itself was probably damaged. It wasn't being used, either stretched or moved, much, so it tensed up." She shifted the man so he again reclined on the cases. "You have several places with similar injury remaining on your back. So, your muscle tension and tightness might not be caffeine withdrawal." Spider glanced away for a moment before biting her lower lip. "Is it all right if I continue working on your muscles? I'd like to start with your head and neck. If I can relieve your headache, you shouldn't hurt as much when I work on your shoulders, back, and chest. Some of the other points are actually worse than that first one."

"It's good. I can't believe what a difference just that one spot made." David shifted his neck and shoulders.

"Okay." Spider moved the cases out of the way and laid the singer flat on the pillows doubling as a mattress. Over the next twenty minutes she worked her fingers over his face, head, and neck, gently removing the tension from his muscles. She smiled inside as he moaned, groaned, and sighed as his pain disappeared. A little over an hour later, she was working the last of the tightness from the singer's back. "How do you feel?" When her prompt was met with silence, she rolled David onto his back and wasn't surprised to discover that he'd fallen asleep. His face appeared more relaxed than she'd ever seen it, either in person or in photos. "Rest well," she whispered as she covered him with the blanket and went to wash her hands.

"Melanie," David whispered as he looked around. He realized the cave was empty, but the fire was burning brightly and he smelled a hint of pine. The scent made his mouth water immediately. "I really do like that tea. Who would have thought I'd like the taste of a pine tree?" He chuckled softly. After several minutes, he began to wonder where the woman was. He remembered that she'd intended to start drying the elk and pick pine trees, but he couldn't remember if she'd mentioned anything else. He must have drifted off to sleep again because when he opened his eyes again, the woman was there working near the fire. "Melanie."

"Yes, David?" She immediately stood and helped him sit up. "How do you feel?"

"Very good. I have less pain than I can remember. At least since before I started performing." He frowned and nibbled at his lower lip. "I'm actually an introvert. I'm very shy. Performing has always been stressful, but it has to be done." He looked into the woman's gray eyes. "I used to become very tense whenever I performed. I think that was why I turned to drugs and alcohol. They took the edge off. I guess I still do get tense."

"I can understand that." Her eyes shifted between the singer's mismatched eyes. "I could never do what you do; even if I was physically able to. I do not like crowds and I'm not a performer. I don't drink and because of my medical license, I could never even dabble in drugs." She shrugged and studied his shoulder and the play of his muscles. "You are moving more easily," Spider observed.

"I am." David watched the woman. She appeared more relaxed around him than that morning, but she looked tired. "What time is it?" When Spider arched her eyebrow and chuckled, he realized the inanity of the question. "Yeah, what does the exact time mean here. I guess I mean, is it still daylight or did I sleep the entire day away?"

"You've only been asleep a couple of hours, David."

"Oh, that's a relief. I thought it was longer; I feel so relaxed." He smiled. "How far have you gotten on your to do list?"

"I finished one elk and got bored, so I stocked up on pine needles, outer bark, inner bark or Phloem, and scrapings of the cambium layer."

David chuckled and gave her a cheeky grin. "I thought I smelled pine tea."

"You do." She smiled gently at him. "Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please!"

Spider shook her head slightly at the way the forty year old singer could manage to look like an excited school boy. As she went to the fire and ladled out some of the drink, she mentally mussed over the man's behavior. She could only assume that in some ways, he'd never actually grown up or perhaps had regressed to younger behavior to deal with the stresses of performing. As she returned to his side, she studied his face as if she could find all the answers to his behavior there.

David closed his eyes and smiled while he drank the hot liquid. As he drained the last drops, he opened his eyes and wondered what Melanie was thinking. Her expression was questioning and intense, but he resisted inquiring about it. She was relaxed and he didn't want to disrupt the easy interaction between them. "Is it sunny out?"

"Very. The sun was more than warm enough to dry the furs. I'll work them after I finish the elk."

"I wish I could go outside," he said without thinking about it.

"I can move you outside."

"Really?" David frowned as he thought about having to be carried outside. "No," he shook his head, "it would be too much trouble." He shuddered and shook his head. "I'm tired of being helpless."

"David, it wouldn't be trouble. In fact, some sun would be helpful for your continued recovery. Exposure to sunlight helps your body produce Vitamin D and that's necessary for healthy bone development and healing. Also, the sun is warm enough that it would help keep your muscles relaxed." She leaned around until she could look into the singer's face. "I would recommend that you wear some clothes."

"Yeah, that could be helpful." He chuckled as he looked at the woman. Her eyelids appeared to droop and she looked even more tired. "Melanie, are you all right? You really do look tired."

"I'm fine. I don't think I slept very well last night. I might have been overly tired from yesterday."

The singer nodded. He knew he had a tendency not to sleep well if he had over exerted himself during the day. There had been nights during the Glass Spider rehearsals where sleep had been an impossible dream, and his nocturnal activities with Melissa hadn't played a role. "Are you sure it wouldn't be troublesome?"

"I'm sure," Melanie said in a reassuring tone. "Let me grab some clothes for you. It might be sunny, but it is still cold and there's a light breeze. The clouds are beginning to thicken, so something might be brewing." She moved about the cave as she spoke and approached him a minute later with an outfit. "The clothes are not bright red nor custom tailored as your suit was, but they are well made and will keep you warm."

"The suit was a costume. Most of my clothes are normal." He realized his words sounded hollow to his own ears. He'd always taken pride in how he dressed and even what he purchased off the rack was usually tailored to fit him perfectly.

"Well, see how you like these." She held up a pair of plain blue jeans for his inspection. A turtleneck came next, then a heavy ski sweater, wool socks, and finally a pair of boxers. At his shocked and somewhat horrified expression at the last, she fought back her laughter. "They're new. They have been washed, but I've never worn them."

David shook his head. "I don't wear underwear."

"I realize that, but I'm," she stuttered, "nervous zipping up the jeans." She blushed a deep crimson and looked away. "I don't want to, uh, catch anything in the zipper."

"Oh." It was David's turn to look uncomfortable. "Yeah, that wouldn't be good. And, I've actually done that."

Melanie's head jerked back around so quickly her neck cracked. Her shocked expression perfectly matched her slight stutters as she tried finding the right words. "You, caught very sensitive skin in the zipper, and you still don't wear underwear?"

"I don't like how they feel. I hated the ones my mother used to buy me." He looked at the boxers the woman held more closely. "Those look really nice." He reached for them and brushed over the fabric. "Are those silk?"

"Yes. Silk is one of the few fabrics I've never had an allergic reaction to. I can't wear polyester at all. I'm okay with most cottons as well as wool. Natural materials just feel better, too." She was glad the man appeared more open to wearing the underwear.

"Okay. Maybe that'll make a difference."

"If after trying them, you find wearing them to be uncomfortable, I'll find a different solution." She took a moment for him to process her words. "Ready?"

"Yes." David felt even more useless and helpless as the woman removed the blanket. "Is everything healing all right?" The sight of the heavy braces on his legs reminded him of the fractures.

"Would you like to see?"

"I guess so," he replied after thinking about it for a moment.

Melanie unfastened the braces and opened them both before shifting the heavy batting-style padding so the heavily bruised legs were visible. She glanced up at David's sharp intake of breath. "David?"

"I don't know what I expected, but are they supposed to look like that?"

"David, your legs were fractured. Both the tibia and fibula." She brushed her fingers gingerly over the singer's calves. "The bones have not shifted after being set. They are healing nicely," she added as she shifted each leg slightly and was ecstatic when the bones remained straight. "In fact, the bones appear to be knitting already." She smiled at him. "Don't worry, the bruising will disappear in time."

"They just don't look right. They almost don't look like my legs."

"After they heal, you won't know they were ever broken unless you feel the bone. At the point they knit, there will be a callus, a thickening, where the fracture has healed. It's why a fractured, then healed, bone actually becomes stronger than the surrounding structure. And, a major reason your legs look less than normal, other than the bruising, is because the muscles have already atrophied a little."

"Okay, if you say so." He glanced toward his left arm and frowned. "I bet my arm looks even worse."

"It probably looks the same, or at least similar. Just because it was a more severe fracture doesn't necessarily mean it is more heavily bruised." She reapplied the padding and strapped the braces back in place before covering his lower body with the blanket. "I would like to look at your arm. You don't have to look at it, if you think you'll be uncomfortable."

"I probably will be uncomfortable, but I should look at it." He kept his eyes averted, but he could feel her gaze studying him.

Melanie moved to his left side and shifted a case so it would support his forearm. She gently unfastened the brace, being especially careful not to jar the limb. Before she opened the padding, she studied the singer's face. "If you aren't sure, now is the time to look away." His blue eyes looked up and caught her gaze. She saw the uncertainty expressed in them, but there was strength as well. She nodded and smiled gently at him before returning her gaze to his forearm. When she bared the skin, her first reaction was disappointment. The arm was so heavily bruised that it was black and for a moment she thought it might be gangrenous. Her second reaction was surprise when she realized the discoloration was only caused by bruising and the edges were already showing signs of healing.

"Oh, god," David gasped as he struggled not to vomit.

"David." Melanie quickly shifted the padding and refastened one strap on the brace before grabbing the man's shoulders to steady him. "It's okay. It's okay." Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as his chest heaved and he struggled to breathe. After a moment the heaves shifted and became sobs. She settled next to him and gathered the singer into her arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

What felt like an hour later, but was actually minutes, David pulled away and snuffled. He shook as a tissue was wiped over his face, removing the remaining wetness. A second tissue was pressed to his nose, after the woman gently prompted him to blow, he did. She gently cleaned his nose. "How can that possibly heal? It looks dead." He felt his mind crack as he thought about the possibility of losing his arm.

"It is healing." She restricted the singer's movement when he tried jerking away. "David, listen. I expected it to look bad and I'll admit that initially I was disappointed in your arm's appearance, but then I studied it more closely. It is healing. The bruising is already shifting in color at the edges. The fractures were more severe than those of your legs and will take longer to heal, but there are already signs they are healing." This time when he pulled away, she didn't try to stop him. "I want to take a closer look and evaluate the pace of bone knitting. But, this time, I do not want you to look at it. Please," she added after a pause. She was relieved when David nodded. "Okay."

She returned to his side and repositioned his arm, repeating her earlier motions. She visually inspected the limb closely for several minutes, gently brushing her fingers over the discolored flesh before using just enough pressure that she could palpate the underlying bone and supporting structures. The lacerated muscle hadn't started healing yet, and the ligaments and tendons felt stretched and distended. There was swelling, but for such a severe injury it wasn't as much as she would have expected under normal circumstances let alone the less than ideal situation of living in a cave. The bone healing wasn't as far along as his legs, but she could tell the various pieces hadn't shifted, or at least hadn't shifted enough that she could feel it. Close to his wrist, she could feel early remodeling between two of the largest pieces of bone.

"Melanie?" David spared a quick glance at the woman, keeping his eyes on her face and avoiding the injured limb. He could see it in his peripheral vision, but resisted looking at it directly. He was surprised to see the hint of a smile cross her face.

"It is healing." The hint became a full smile as she looked him in the eyes. "I'm almost certain you're going to be able to keep your arm. It will just take time and nutritional and physical support. Then, it will become a matter of functionality." Her gaze lowered and she quickly reapplied the padding and brace, covering the damaged flesh before again meeting the man's gaze. "Really," she answered his silent question.

For a moment, the singer fought back tears of relief before giving her a weak smile.

"Ready to get dressed and greet the sun?"

David chuckled and sniffled. "I'd forgotten. I'm ready."

It took Spider close to half an hour to get the singer dressed. Several tentative minutes of which involved carefully zipping up the jeans. "I don't think footwear will be necessary, this time."

"No, not this time. Maybe next." David closed his eyes and shifted his hands over his groin as Melanie stepped away. " _Behave!_ " His body was refusing to listen to him and when the woman turned back toward him, he was afraid of her reaction based on what he suspected. "I'm sorry." He blushed slightly and couldn't meet her eyes.

"It's okay. You're excited to be getting out of the cave."

David glanced up and looked over the woman's face, surprised she showed no apparent discomfort over his body's behavior. "Yeah." He hadn't expected her to explain his reaction to her closeness and gentle touch in such a straight forward manner. On the plane, her explanation to his erection had been similar, he realized. " _Perhaps it's direct physical contact that is the primary trigger. Or suggestiveness? Or actions or words that are overtly personal?_ " He looked up sharply when she came to his side.

"I've laid out a mat and blanket for you to sit on. Are you ready?"

David glanced around looking for the travois she'd moved him on before. "Aren't you going to drag me on that sled?"

"Why? It isn't that far. I can carry you."

"Ah, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I won't." She paused a moment and tried to understand his reticence. "If you don't think I can carry you safely, I'll get the travois."

"No, it's okay." He'd seen her expression shift. "I just thought it would be easier on you."

"David. I've been moving around metal sheeting, dead animals, etc. I'm stronger than I look."

"I have never doubted that." His voice was filled with certainty that he knew the woman would be able to hear. "Okay, is there anything I can do to make this easier?"

"I'll wrap your right arm around my neck before I lift you. Just try to stay as relaxed as possible and don't struggle. I will not drop you." She put her words into motion and gently lifted the singer, standing for a moment as she shifted his weight so it was more evenly distributed between her arms. She felt the man's gasp as she walked to the entrance and used his feet to shift the heavy drape to the side so they could exit onto the ledge.

"Oh, wow!" David got his first good look at the area surrounding the cave. He could see the small bay where they had washed ashore and the wide open ocean beyond it. The ledges were as the woman had described, but now one was halfway covered by a metal tunnel and the other had several sheds, for lack of a better description, set on it. He could see numerous hides or furs stretched on frames sheltered in one. The metal shed closest to the cave entrance was partially filled with lengths of wood. The woman headed toward the wood shed and settled him on a blanket gently arranging his legs so he was comfortable. The stacks of wood made a perfect place for him to recline. The woman appeared again with several additional blankets that she wrapped around his torso and legs. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. If you become uncomfortable, I'll move you back inside. A sunburn would not be a good thing to add to your other injuries." She smiled before moving to the remaining elk. After checking the edge of her knife, she quickly began cutting tongue-shaped slices of meat that she poked onto lengths of wire that were then hung inside the tunnel.

As the woman continued cutting the elk into easily dried sections, David looked at the area beyond the ledges. He estimated there were almost five acres of open pasture, edged by stunted trees on the right side facing the ocean. While he couldn't see the area immediately connected to the ledge, he had seen the wide dirt ramp that led to the space he was seated on when he was carried outside. Directly across from their area, was the initial cliff they had seen that extended all the way into the ocean, forming one side of the bay. Adjacent to it was a covering of trees, he recognized the white bark of birch and assumed the few trees with leaves were the nut-bearing ones Melanie wanted to gather from. To his left was the mountain containing their cave, but beyond that appeared to be thick forest. As he watched the pasture, he saw rabbits hopping around and a periodic deer trotted through. He thought he saw a wolf at the edge of the trees, but wasn't certain because it was in shadow. As the day progressed and sunlight hit different areas, he started picking out more details: various birds, a brilliantly colored orange fox, squirrels, and other creatures along with the tall, swaying stand of what he assumed was the amaranth field. He startled as the woman settled near him and followed his gaze.

"What do you see?"

He was surprised at her question, but looked back over the scene. "An overwhelming challenge," he finally answered.

"Not overwhelming."

"What do you see?" He was curious and found it odd that she didn't see their new world as overwhelming, although it seemed she did concur it was a challenge.

Without hesitation, she answered, "Paradise. Peace." At his surprised expression, she smiled and sighed. "I don't like crowds. I'm very uncomfortable in a city environment, but that's where I'm required to be for my various lines of work. I'm most comfortable in the middle of nowhere." She waved a hand toward the wide open area past the ledge they rested on.

"I'm a city boy, born and bred."

"I know. I was raised in a small town about an hour away from Pittsburgh. It wasn't quite as empty as this, of course, but I could escape into the woods for weeks or months and not see another human being that whole time." As she spoke, her eyes never stopped roving the grassy area at the base of their ledges. "I see tomorrow's breakfast," she said softly as she stood and went into the cave, returning with her sling and pouch of stones. "I'll be right back, David."

The singer looked at the space and tried seeing what the woman had spotted. He thought about cursing his damaged eye for his inability to recognize what she had, but he knew the eye wasn't to blame. His awareness of his environment was different from hers. He understood that at a gut level. He watched as she moved to the edge of the clear area and settled a stone in the sling. A moment later, the weapon was in motion and the first of several stones had been launched toward the line of birch trees. Her actions reminded him of an exotic dance; her whole body was involved in launching the rocks with the sling. It was elegant, and deadly, but even more than that, it was strangely sensual. He frowned when he still couldn't see what she'd evidently killed as she moved toward the far edge of the field. "I have a lot to learn or else she's always going to have to take care of me." Several minutes later, Melanie reached the ledge and he saw what she'd killed.

"Partridges," she said as she held up four birds with their legs tied together by a length of what appeared to be twine.

"How did you see them all the way down there?" The birds looked small even this close.

"Movement. Also, they have tufts of white on their backs that contrast with the darkness caused by the shadowing of the trees." She could see how disconcerted he appeared over her actions and she wasn't sure if it was the fact she killed the birds or that she had seen them from the ledge. "David, I've been hunting for most of my life. I have practiced these skills, including my ability to observe the area for possible food sources. Those skills are going to be important if we are to survive."

"I understand that. It's just," his voice faded away and he finished with a sigh. "I feel overwhelmed."

"Take it one day at a time, David. I didn't learn these skills over night and I don't expect you to." She set the birds down by his side and watched his reaction. She was relieved that he didn't appear uncomfortable with the dead birds. " _It was simply my observational skills, not the fact I caught breakfast._ " She entered the cave and returned with one of the intact cargo cases. "I'll pluck the feathers and save them. When we get enough, we can use them to make better pillows and perhaps a comforter. I'd like to give the blanket back to my favorite guitar eventually." She smiled as she settled next to the singer's side. "Are you enjoying your time outside?"

"Very much." David watched as the woman started plucking the feathers from the birds and carefully placed them inside the case. "You called those birds partridges? Do you mean the little birds that are popular at Christmas?"

"Yes. At least as ceramic decorations." Her brow wrinkled as she thought about the questions. "I'm actually not certain they're partridges. They look a lot like them, but their coloration is a little different and these are larger than the few partridges I've seen."

"Are you positive they're edible?"

"Oh, yes, they're edible. All birds, foul or poultry, are edible, it's a matter of being comfortable eating it. These should taste similar to Cornish game hens after they are roasted. Perhaps more like chicken, if I boil it for soup."

"So, you could really eat a vulture," David said with a chuckle.

"You could," Spider said with a sharp glance toward the man, "I have no idea why anyone would want to eat a vulture though. They're filthy; they're carrion eaters. I would think their odor would permeate the meat and no matter how much you washed it, it would still have a sour taste and smell. Why would you think of that?"

"It's from a BBC role I played, Baal."

"Brecht?"

"Yes, you've seen it?"

Melanie shook her head. "I don't watch television. I've read the story." She frowned and tried remembering the story in its entirety. It had been at least two decades since she'd read it. "You played the main character?"

"Yes." He could understand her reaction. Many around him had been surprised that he'd be open to playing such a despicable character and even more so, he'd wanted to.

"Baal was ugly in heart, mind, and action. Quite, reprehensible." She paused and thought more about the story. "Although, there was something interesting about the character's spirit. I hesitate to call it beauty, but there were hints of beauty hidden within him." A light chuckle escaped her lips as she finished reviewing the story in her head. "He was a bawdy old bard."

"Oh, that he was," David said in a suggestive tone. "But, there was a section where Baal played dead and waited for the vultures to land on him to devour his dead body. He used the opportunity to kill the vulture and make soup out of it."

"Baal had a stronger stomach than I have," Melanie said with sincerity. Once she finished with the last bird, she latched the case and set it aside, laying the birds on top.

"How are you going to cook them?"

She glanced up at the singer's inquiry. "I'm going to try roasting them. There was a roasting pan with a deep lid in the chef's case and I think if I rest it in red hot coals and cover the lid with additional coals, it will work much like a Dutch oven I would normally use in a campfire." She shrugged. "Regardless, as long as they are cooked through, they should be edible. I need to dig a permanent ground oven. These would be wonderful roasted all night or all day in one."

"A winter project, perhaps?" The singer smiled at the idea. "I could help then."

"Well, I would really love to have one before winter sets in. It's such a convenient way to cook and the results are usually delicious." She saw David's smile start to fade and realized he was probably feeling useless again. "Plus, there will so much else to do during the winter. I did promise to put you to work, right? Having a convenient cooking method will free up our time to work on other things."

"I guess."

"David," she waited for his eyes to meet her own, "there will be a lot for us to do this winter. I can't be positive, but based on the weather we've seen since we've been here, it could be an extremely cold, snowy season. If we're going to put in a garden, we have to plan accordingly so everything planted has time to mature. Crafting pots or even trough planters will become vital to extending the growing season. I wish the sheds I found had windows. I could bring them here and build cold frames. It might be possible to have plants that are cold tolerant, such as lettuce, carrots, cabbage, kale, etc, planted in a cold frame and harvested through the winter, as long as the temperature isn't too cold."

"How can you be sure about any of this?"

"I can't be. I'm making educated guesses based on my past experiences and knowledge from various books I've read or conversations I've had with farmers or long-time gardeners." She allowed a little of her inner worry show on her face and sighed. "Frankly, if a few of my interpretations of this environment are accurate, we're going to be hard-pressed to come through the season unscathed."

David saw the shift in her expression, but heard much more in the tone of her voice. "Please, elaborate. I promise I won't panic. I can handle it. You do not have to deal with all the pressure alone. I might not be able to do anything physically, but I can try to be supportive. Melanie, I appreciate that you're trying to shield me, but you don't have to deal with it all alone."

"I know. I'm not trying to shield you, not really. I just don't know anything for certain, or even with a degree of certainty."

"Isn't knowledge more important than certainty?"

"In many ways, yes. And, that's the problem in my mind. Much of the knowledge I've already collected points toward what could be a worst case scenario." David leaned forward slightly and nodded for her to continue. "First, I've been trying to estimate our latitude, how far north we are. The closer to the equator, the warmer the temperatures and the shorter any cold season is. The closer to the poles, the north pole in our case, the colder the temperatures and the longer the cold season is. It also means significantly shorter summers."

The singer nodded and frowned. "What is your estimate?"

"We're probably about one hundred miles outside the Arctic Circle. And, if that's the case, we will start to experience close to 24 hours of darkness before the end of the month. You've asked about time of day. Look around you. What would you estimate the time to be?"

David knew the question held a great deal of significance or it wouldn't have been asked. He looked around and realized with a shock that the sun was cut in half by the horizon. It was still rising when Melanie had carried him outside. "Maybe five or six?"

"It's actually around three in the afternoon." She held up a small pocket watch. "I remembered I had it in my backpack and it's still working. I just need to remember to wind it once a week," she said with a chuckle, "but, it keeps very good time."

"So, just because the sun has set, doesn't mean that it's actually night."

"It is night in the most basic sense of the word. But, no it wouldn't be viewed as night if we were in civilization. And, something to think about, the days have become noticeably shorter since we landed."

"How will that effect us? Our health, physically and mentally?"

"I won't lie to you. If we're cooped up in that cave for four or five months straight, we're going to be mental messes. However, because we are not inside the Arctic Circle, there will be brief periods where we will have light. As our eyes adapt to the light levels, we will be able to do more outside. That brings me to the second point I've been trying to answer. How much snowfall can we expect."

"Wouldn't it be like Alaska or Canada?"

"Possibly, but there are wide variations in the climate profiles from region to region. One area might receive snow measured in feet and fifty miles away get a few inches. With how much rain this island has been receiving, I'm leaning toward significant snowfall once it begins. There have been a couple mornings where we've had about an inch of snow or else ice or heavy frosts. They have burned off quickly enough because of the sun, but if we have very short periods of light, it will build up quickly."

"If that happens, will we be able to get there?" He indicated the flat, grassy area that was now cloaked in heavy shadow.

"Probably. The ramp is rough enough that we should be able to get some footing. If necessary, we could slide down it. It isn't so steep of an incline that it would be dangerous. Getting up will be more of a problem. I should rig some type of rope or hand rail before winter closes in. It'll help if there is heavy snow cover."

"Getting down will be like sledding. I used to love sled riding as a kid."

"Yes. But in this case it would be without a proper sled." She smiled at the second part of his comment. She suspected he still loved to go sled riding when he got the chance since he seemed to a big kid at heart.

Turning serious again, David frowned and concentrated on his thoughts, assembling them into coherent questions and ideas. "Earlier, you mentioned the length of the growing season." The woman nodded. "What would that mean for a garden? Would it limit what we can grow?"

"It would, or at least could. But, I have numerous seeds for short season varieties of my favorite vegetables. Once the native plants begin growing again, I'll have a better idea of how long the summers are as well as the temperature range. The problem in waiting is that we might not get seeds in the ground soon enough for them to fully mature." She frowned as she thought about the limited quantities of seeds she had and gave a silent wish to have access to her seed bank back in New York. "What is it," she asked as she saw David's expression shift.

"I was just thinking," he stated what was already obvious. "Could we put a portion of seeds in as early as possible, but reserve some to put in later, if there is a frost or snow or ice or whatever?"

"I was planning on doing that anyway. I don't want to risk all the seeds on an unknown growing season, but even splitting the plantings doesn't guarantee success."

"Does anything?" He saw a look of shock cross the woman's face and again leaned toward her to strengthen the impact of his question. "Really, are there any guarantees in life?"

"No," she said softly with the hint of a smile, "there are no guarantees."

"Well, there is one guarantee?" The singer's face morphed onto a cheeky grin.

"Really? Death and taxes?"

"Well, yes. At least one of those is a guarantee." He waited a moment to build some anticipation. "It's a guarantee that you'll take care of me and make me feel useful."

"I guess." Spider's face blushed a deep crimson.

"Don't guess. I know it to be a guarantee, Melanie. Just talking like this has made me feel better about our situation as well as my place in this new world." He smiled with complete sincerity. "You tell me that I'll heal. I believe you. You have promised to teach me and put me to work. I believe that as well. You've told me that you're trying to evaluate every possibility that you can think of. I hope you are willing to use me as a sounding board. I might not have your knowledge, but maybe there is something I can think of just because I'll look at it from a different way."

"True. Sometimes it takes someone outside a situation, outside the bubble of educated knowledge, to see something that is overlooked by those on the inside or those who have always depended on past experience or evidence."

"Exactly." David glanced toward the birds and realized that during their conversation, the sun had fully set and the ledge was only illuminated by starlight. He glanced toward the sky and gasped at the sight of millions of tiny pinpoints of light. "Oh, wow! It's beautiful!"

"It is. When I first moved to the city, I missed seeing the night sky. The constellations," her voice faded away.

"What about them?" David looked at the woman's face. He was shocked to see a hint of panic as well as embarrassment in her expression.

"I need to stay up late tonight and look at them." She glanced toward the case where the birds still rested before she stood, quickly picking up the birds and the case. "First, I need to get these birds started. Do you want to enjoy the sky for a while longer?"

"Yes." The singer smiled widely. "It's beautiful. I don't ever remember seeing it like this and I love the stars." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll see a UFO. Wouldn't it be wild if we were rescued by aliens?"

Spider wasn't sure if he was joking or being serious. "I believe everything can eventually be explained through observation, examination, and evaluation. UFO's are by definition simply not identified. As for aliens, I'm not sure I'd want to meet one of those spindly gray things I've seen on the covers of science fiction novels. Or worse, those Martians from the radio show." She paused a moment and smiled. "I don't think I'd mind meeting the alien from, The Man Who Fell to Earth. He always seemed fascinating to me."

"You've met him."

"What?" Her face reflected her confusion.

"It was the first leading role I played."

The woman squinted and looked confused. "I didn't know it was made into a movie." She frowned slightly and looked more closely at the singer. "I can't see you in the role. The alien was supposed to be extremely tall, well over six feet, probably close to seven. You're not even six foot." She paused as she looked at David more closely. "Although, you have the skinny, alien look perfected."

"When I made the film, I was even thinner. Are you familiar with the covers of Station to Station and Low?" He continued after the woman nodded, "The cover of Station is a photo taken on the set. Low's cover is a painting based on another scene. The director saw me in a documentary and swore that I was his alien."

"Huh, okay, based on those images, I guess I can see you in the role. As long as the rest of the cast was chosen appropriately, it wouldn't even change the physical aspects of the story that much." She started to turn toward the entrance. "I'll start the birds cooking then be back out. I'll bring something for you to eat as well."

David looked toward where she'd been and frowned. He noticed her word choice and hoped she'd bring something for herself as well. As he watched the movement of the stars march across the sky, measuring the passage of time, it seemed only a few minutes had passed before the woman was again seated next to him. "Melanie," he said softly. He saw the single plate of food and identified pieces of rabbit. "Aren't you eating?"

"I had something while getting everything started." She smiled and glanced toward the sky. "It really is beautiful." Her gaze returned to the singer's face and his unreadable expression confused her. "What's wrong?"

"You need to eat more."

"I ate. Now, you eat something." She scooped up the first piece of pan roasted rabbit and fed it to him. "You're probably thirsty." Pine tea was offered to him as well as sips of water. Almost fifteen minutes later, the rabbit and tea was gone. "Do you need the toilet?"

"Just pee." His need was quickly cared for and everything cleared away. The woman returned with several heavy blankets and settled next to David, wrapping both of them in the warm fabric. "Why are the constellations so important?" He kept his voice low pitched and barely above a whisper. Without any background noise or constant sound from traffic and people, the quiet almost demanded such respect.

"There are certain constellations that never set within the Arctic Circle. Others are visible only during certain seasons. By seeing what's visible and when, it should give us solid information on our position in relation to the circle." She pulled the singer against her body and checked his shoulder. "Do you have any pain or discomfort?"

"Not really. My left arm itches, but my shoulder feels quite good." He shrugged. "It should, I didn't do anything today. Again."

"You put stress on it by sitting up all day. The fact it isn't painful or swollen, or the joint pulled open, shows that it's healing and that you're gaining strength. You didn't even take a nap today. Are you tired?" Almost on cue both of them yawned and shared quiet laughter. "Silly question."

"Not silly." David yawned again, his jaw popping slightly. "Wow. I guess I am tired. But, I really want to look at the sky some more."

"Then star gaze. Even if we fall asleep out here, I think we're safe. The sky has cleared, although I see some cloud cover developing in the distance." She pointed toward the southwestern horizon where the stars were blanketed by a gray haze. "If it does rain, we're under cover here. The blankets will keep us warm."

"You'll keep me warm," David said softly. He didn't make the comment to be cheeky or flirtatious, he saw it as stating a fact. "The blankets will just help." He felt the woman nod against the side of his head and sensed the smile that crossed her face. Almost immediately the singer started to fall asleep, his body relaxing against her torso, and her gentle breathing a meditative cadence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accurate strikes with a sling are possible with extensive practice. The fastest I've been able to kill four rabbits was just over 90 seconds. Four small quail in two minutes, with a takeoff and landing by the flock. David isn't necessarily experiencing the passage of time as accurately as he would if he was moving around and participating in the activities himself, so time will seem to stretch or compress as his focus shifts.
> 
> A question was asked of me in real life, "Will David lose his arm?" He will not lose it, but I'm not giving away more than that.


	9. December 8, 1987 - Shadows of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David relives the guilt and pain he'd hidden deep within his heart. Retelling his story will either bring the stranded pair closer together or will it destroy their newly established team. Emotions, weather, and the inherent limitations of their environment will dictate how successful their survival will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit retelling of a sexual assault. As mentioned on a prior chapter, it is adapted from the bragging of a pair of girls I attended school with. It's simply told from David Bowie's viewpoint.
> 
> If you choose to skip this chapter, the rest of the story will still make sense, although some of the undercurrents between David and Spider won't have as strong of an impact.

~~~~~

December 8, 1987

"Rest well, David," the woman whispered into the man's golden hair. She placed a gentle kiss on the side of his head, just above his ear. As she watched the procession of stars cross the sky, she felt her inner tension build almost to the point of bursting. The stars didn't lie; they were much closer to the Arctic Circle than she'd originally estimated. Still, the weather was not as severe as she would have expected for their position and time of year. She could only surmise the ocean current was having a moderating effect on the weather. Her mind churned through the new information and what it could portend for the winter ahead and the length of the growing season. Finally, after what felt like a hundred hours, she'd formed a basic plan of what needed to get finished as well as how quickly and her thoughts started to refocus closer to the present and her surroundings. She became intensely aware of David's warmth, his deep, even breathing, and allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep, still cradling the man's torso in her arms and his face and head on her shoulder.

"Stop, please, no," David gasped out as he tried to move his arms. His breath seized in his throat and he felt as if his heart was going to burst in fear and panic. "I can't! I'm hurting her," the words came out as a moan before he fell silent and tears streamed down his face.

"David?" Spider battled from the depths of sleep to wake. She was afraid the man would hurt himself by struggling against her embrace and released her hold on him, only maintaining enough contact to keep him cradled against her body. "David," she cried out when he shifted away from her and tried to crawl away. "David, please," her voice barely a whisper as she attempted to stop his movement. The woman made comforting noises as she brushed the fingers of her left hand through the man's golden hair and gently caressed her right over his back and shoulders, hoping to wake him without causing him even more panic.

"No, no, please," the singer groaned out in between sobs. "Please, stop." His cries became weaker as he shook under the woman's touch. It was the icy chill of the night air that finally broke through the haze of sleep and caused him to startle awake. "Melanie?"

"I'm here, David." He drew a shuddering breath and swallowed hard. His nose was stuffed and his throat was sore. "I need to get you covered again, okay?" She waited for his hesitant nod before placing several blankets around his shoulders. "I'll be right back."

He felt her presence leave his side and felt her absence was justified as his memories took over and he fought back even more tears and panic. The woman's whisper announced her return and her gentle, caring touch felt wrong. He knew he didn't deserve such kindness, but he could only lay in complete submission on the icy cold stone. David tuned out the world as he sank into the darkness of his memories and the guilt he carried in his soul.

"David," Melanie whispered as she gently turned the singer's face toward her. She wiped away the wetness of his tears and cleaned his nose the best she could. Her questions and comments went unanswered, as long minutes passed, she became increasingly concerned about what he had dreamed about to cause him to disconnect from reality. Finally, she lifted him against her body, he was already cold to the touch because of contact with the ground. Spider was careful not to restrict his arms in any way, she just wanted to warm him and provide silent support of his emotional state. ' _I will get answers when you wake up,_ ' she thought toward the still man.

Blue eyes opened and saw only darkness at first. David shifted slightly and became more aware of his surroundings. He moved a little more and realized he was being cradled against the woman, but her arms were wrapped around his torso and his own arms had been left free to move. Her mousy brown hair brushed over his forehead and he could feel the steady throb of her pulse against the bridge of his nose. He shivered as his memories crashed to the forefront of his mind. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and ground his teeth to prevent his memories from overwhelming him again. He pulled away from the woman's warmth and realized it was still night, the moon was low on the horizon, but the stars were as bright as street lamps.

"David," Spider said softly as he moved away from her. "You need to limit your movements before you cause yourself harm." She felt him stop moving and when she drew him back into her embrace, he didn't struggle, but she wondered about his actions. On one hand, she wasn't sure he was aware of what he was doing, but there was an underlying purposefulness to them as well. "It's going to be all right," she whispered as she gently brushed her hand over his head, almost petting him in an attempt to calm him.

"It's not all right."

The singer's words were barely audible, even though he spoke them directly into her ear. "Why not, David?' Spider's calming actions never stopped.

"I don't deserve this."

"Again, why not?" She rubbed her cheek against the golden hair and looked toward the man out of the corner of her eye. "Please, David, something happened. I'm concerned. Was it only a dream? Or was this caused by memories of real events?"

David shivered and choked on a sob. "Real." He felt her heartbeat skip a beat in surprise. "It really happened."

"Okay, David, are you able to talk about it?" She rubbed a hand against his back, keeping her touch as neutral and calming as possible. "Are you willing to talk about it? I can't help you if I don't know what happened." She closed her eyes and cursed herself inside as she thought about her own actions from that morning. She felt like a hypocrite.

"I don't deserve any help. I don't deserve your kindness." He struggled to take a deep breath and thought about what had happened between them earlier. He realized his memories had taken over his dreams because he was concerned about the woman. He wanted the easy closeness they'd had again and wondered if knowledge of what happened to him could bring it back. "I think I'm able to talk about it." He drew away far enough that he could look at her face. He was amazed at the level of concern she expressed and he cursed his poor night vision as he tried reading the emotions in her eyes, ' _a hint of fear?_ '

"First, we should go inside. The temperature is dropping more than I expected it would." She waited for him to respond and when he nodded, she shifted to her knees, wrapping the blankets around him as tightly as she could. "This might be a little uncomfortable, but I'm going to try carrying you with the blankets so you don't get more chilled than you already are."

"Okay." David relaxed completely as he was bundled up and then lifted like a child. It only took a few minutes for the woman to carry him into the cave and settle him on the bed. He watched as she stoked the fire back to life from the blood red coals and double-checked the cover at the entrance before returning to his side. "Hold me, please" he whispered. He felt pitiful and childish, but he desperately wanted to feel comforted and cherished one last time. He knew the woman's kindness would end once she heard what type of monster he really was.

"Okay," Spider didn't even question it, simply gathered the man into her arms and gently rubbed along his arms and back. The heavy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and him, ensconcing him in the combined warmth. "What ever it is, David, it will not change how I feel about you."

"It will," his voice was barely audible, even in the almost absolute stillness of the cave.

The woman stayed silent, simply giving silent support to the evidently hurting man. She shifted him slightly and rubbed along his back. Tremors ran through the muscles and caused his breathing to be irregular. She waited and her patience paid off when David broke his silence.

"You've followed my career?"

"Yes," Melanie said softly as she nodded against his head.

"You know about my sexual history? My personal history?"

"Some. Only what has been reported or inferred in various books and articles. I have no way of determining what is true and what is false or what is simply exaggerated." She wasn't sure where his thoughts were going, but she was willing to let him move at his own pace.

"True. Some of the exaggerations and semi-truths have been my own doing." He shook his head as he thought about some of the things he'd said just to garner controversy. "Serious Moonlight."

"Yes, the tour, what about it?"

"Were you at any of the shows? With your comments about my performance in Glass Spider and what the show represented, I assume you had seen it."

Spider nodded against his head. "Yes, I saw Glass Spider. In fact, I saw both the opening and closing nights. I saw several shows in between as well. As to Serious Moonlight, I didn't see as many shows, but I saw several that stood out." David nodded and indicated for her to continue. "I saw the concert that was filmed in Montreal. It was excellent. Not as physically demanding as Glass Spider, but still quite demanding. By the end of the show, you looked tired. I think that was the fourth of five if I remember correctly. I'd seen a couple shows earlier in the tour as well, but they were not as polished." She paused and wondered if she should mention that she'd seen the next night's show as well.

"How about the next night? The last in Montreal."

Melanie nodded against his head. "Yes, I saw it." She swallowed and remembered a few other events from the day of the concert. "I was also at your appearance at The Vinyl Shack. I always stopped there when in town because they have an amazing selection of music I can't find or have a difficult time finding in New York." She thought about what had happened at the shop. "When people were lined up around the block, my first thought was that they were going out of business. I called Brian up and asked what was happening and he told me that your record company had set up a last minute publicity stunt at the shop. He let me in the back of the store as if I was an employee." She paused and frowned over the memories. "You looked exhausted and I couldn't understand why you didn't have security with you, or if you did, why they were allowing people to maul you. Some of those girls were crazy aggressive."

"Yeah," David said softly.

"By the time you left for the concert, I seriously wondered how you were going to perform. You were limping slightly and your head just hung with how tired you were." Spider nibbled on her lower lip a moment before continuing. "At the venue, I was front row, center stage and noticed that the same, super aggressive group of girls from the record store were sitting off to my left and pointed them out to security, mentioning that they'd caused problems earlier in the day at one of your appearances and that they should be watched. I lost track of them after that. When the show began, I could tell you were still extremely tired; your movements were sluggish and your timing wasn't always on the money. Then, you tripped over the wiring during Fashion. It wasn't taped down completely. If you hadn't been so tired, I doubt it would have been a problem. You went down hard." She shook her head and looked at his golden hair from the corner of her eye. "I was surprised you got up as quickly as you did, barely missing a beat. Then, you went to the edge of the stage and those girls got hold of you."

"They were the same girls," David whispered.

"The very same. Evidently security didn't pay attention to my warning. They pulled you off the stage. Was it your personal security that finally got them off you?" She felt him nod against her neck. "As they say, the show must go on, but you didn't get close to the edge again that night. I've always thought you were taking a chance reaching for the crowd the way you do. But, you were able to finish the show without further incident. You were wiped out, in a different way than Glass Spider, but still wiped out." She didn't ask if his dreams and memories had to do with being pulled from the stage. That shouldn't cause such emotional conflict. Yes, tripping would be embarrassing and having aggressive fans be disrespectful was problematic, but neither should cause such a complete emotional breakdown. "You postponed several concerts after that. I assume because you needed extra time to physically recover from the falls."

"Not from the falls." Spider turned her head slightly at his soft statement. "From something else."

"Those girls did something to you when they pulled you from the stage? Later?"

"Not then, but yes." The woman waited silently for David to continue. "I left the show that night, exhausted, battered. My whole body hurt, my legs were bruised from the knees down. Both hands were bruised and I could barely move my shoulders and arms. Looking back, I'm not sure how I finished the show." He shivered slightly and not because of temperature. His memories were still fresh, raw. "I got to the hotel and barely made it to my room. I was stumbling and I'm sure other guests assumed I was drunk. I got my suit off and crawled into bed after taking a handful of aspirins." His entire body was wracked by a tremor and he whimpered before trying to move deeper into the woman's embrace.

"It's okay, David. It happened in the past and can't hurt you any more." Spider brushed her fingers through his thick hair and continued trying to comfort him through touch and calmness.

"It can hurt me. It'll change everything."

"It won't change anything, David. I promise you, nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you, how I'll treat you. We're here together, alone, for the foreseeable future." She paused a moment as she thought about what he'd already said. "Those girls can't hurt you here." When she felt the man jerk in her arms and draw in a shocked breath, she knew she'd put the pieces together. Those girls had done something to him, something that had hurt him mentally and emotionally at least, and probably physically as well. "It's all right; you can tell me."

"I fell asleep. I don't know how; they got in my room." He shut his eyes and struggled to get the story out. "I slept right through that part. I woke to someone shaking me, slapping my face. One of those girls was straddling my chest; she was naked." He paused a moment to see if the woman would react, comment that the girls were underage. "I couldn't understand why I couldn't move my arms or legs. She shifted off me, laughing at how disoriented I was. When my eyes closed and I sagged back into the pillows, she kneed me in the chest and slapped me again. I woke enough at that point to try looking around. I came fully awake when I realized my arms and legs were completely restrained. There were both cuffs and ropes around my ankles and wrists. I struggled as I looked around." He swallowed hard and shook as he remembered how the metal had cut into his skin. "All four of them were there. The three older ones were naked; the fourth one looked considerably younger and was standing there shaking her head. She kept saying what they were doing was wrong. The older ones cajoled her and said that I really wanted everything that was going to happen. That they all did," he drew a deep breath, "I think they did this to others, not just me."

David opened his eyes and tried gauging the woman's reaction. "I started to say something, that I didn't want anything from them, but the girl who had been straddling and slapping me stuffed a towel in my mouth, and patted me on the side of the face. She told me to behave and that nothing bad would happen to me. I just needed to lay back and enjoy myself. She went to the younger girl and ordered her to remove her clothes, that she'd get me ready." The man gasped as he shook his head. "I fought against the restraints and tried pushing the towel out of my mouth, but she'd shoved it in pretty far and I was having trouble breathing. One of the older girls starting forcing the younger one to take her clothes off and the other two started running their hands over my body, playing with me," he added under his breath. That caused the woman to have a reaction. He fought the urge to crawl away, thinking she would pull back. "I couldn't stop it. My body reacted. Even though I didn't want it, didn't find them attractive, was scared, I became hard. My body wouldn't stop," his voice was almost a cry, "it was like on the plane, I couldn't control it. Like earlier."

"David, that's a normal reaction."

"No, it's not," he broke in. "I didn't want it. I couldn't control it. I was terrified."

"On both occasions: the plane and with those predators," Spider stated.

"I shouldn't have been able to get hard."

"Why not? I've had male students run out of my lecture halls because I forced them to answer questions. If they're wearing tight clothing, you can easily see how their bodies have reacted to their fear. In a few cases, it's been worse than simply developing an erection; they've actually ejaculated because of the stress."

"What?"

"I've heard people say that a man can't become physically aroused unless he is attracted to someone or is in a sexual situation, but that's not accurate. Stress, fear, terror, an unwanted touch, even torture can cause his body to react, without actual desire."

"Still, I didn't want to react. It was inappropriate to react with those young girls."

Spider scoffed at his statement. "They don't sound as if they were acting like young girls. They were acting like sexual predators."

David swallowed hard and thought about Melanie's words. The woman was right in her description of the girls' behavior. "That's true. Still, I wanted it to stop. I was screaming in my throat and trying to breathe, but my body had other ideas. The older girls were all over me, the younger one held back. I think she was afraid of my size and what the older ones were doing. I've always had a high sex drive and multiple times wasn't unusual for me." He felt his face heat up, for some reason he found it embarrassing to admit that fact to the woman. "After what felt like hours, they couldn't get me to react anymore. I was almost choking because of the towel and I hurt so bad that I just wanted to pass out. I must have fallen unconscious because I woke to being shocked and became erect again. The older girls made the younger one mount me. I knew the moment she started lowering herself on me that she was a virgin. Because of my size, I don't like being a woman's first, certainly not a young girl's. Even if I'm in control of the situation and am very careful readying them, I can cause a woman significant pain. I'd been crying for a while, but I started sobbing. I could barely breathe at all. My nose was stuffed and I think the towel had slipped deeper into my throat."

Spider closed her eyes as his earlier words made sense.

"I screamed inside that I was hurting her. I wanted it all to stop. I didn't want to cause her pain. I struggled more until one of the girls hissed that my wrists and ankles were bleeding. One girl held my legs and one slapped me and ordered me to behave. The original one pushed the young girl onto me and she screamed. I kept shaking my head, crying into the towel for them to stop. I did go soft then. Something shocked me again, when my body didn't react, I was shocked again and again. I think I blacked out several times. It was excruciating."

"David," Melanie broke in, "what do you mean 'shocked'?"

"I'm not sure. Electricity was a kink I never got into, but it felt like an electrical shock down below."

"Oh, my," the woman gasped out as a picture formed in her mind.

"You know what it is?"

"Yes, I know. I just can't imagine using it on a human male who's conscious."

It was David's turn to gasp. "What do you mean?"

"You're describing an electroejaculation device." She realized the explanation would be mentally traumatic for the man, but the physical trauma had already been done. Maybe having real knowledge of what had been done would help him deal with the memories. "You've heard of artificial insemination, right?" David nodded against her neck. "The semen for animal artificial insemination is collecting using an electrical probe pressed against the prostate gland, stimulating the nearby nerves. Several shocks are required to trigger ejaculation."

"Wait, the prostate gland is inside." His brain presented him with a picture and caused him to gasp and pull away. "How?"

For a moment Spider wondered what he was asking, then she saw the panic in his eyes. "A probe is placed inside the rectum, pressed against the prostate gland, and a one to two second shock is delivered directly to the surrounding nerves. After two to three stimulus cycles, a man usually ejaculates. But, David, it's a procedure normally done under anesthesia because of the pain involved. It also carries a high risk of internal burns and long-term sexual dysfunction."

Horror didn't come close to describing the look in the man's crystal blue eyes. For several minutes, it seemed he was speechless and falling into shock. "Why? How? They were young girls."

"One or more of them may have grown up on a farm. It's a common procedure on bulls and other large mammals. It would have provided access to the device as well as understanding of its use. They would have still had to acquire a probe for human use." Spider shook her head. "I can't imagine anyone being cruel enough to use it on a man without some way to block the pain. It would have been torture."

"It made me hard, but I don't think I had anything left in me." David looked lost as his memories closed in around him again. "I lost consciousness. I couldn't breathe."

"David?" Spider reached for him and was relieved when he fell back into her arms. She'd realized something horrible had happened to him, but this was more than she could have imagined.

"I was slapped awake. My legs and arms weren't restrained anymore and the towel was gone, but I was so exhausted physically, mentally I was destroyed. I couldn't do anything, couldn't move. I'm not sure how I was breathing. The girls were all dressed. The young one could barely move; you could see she was in a lot of pain. She said something to the other girls who left the room and went into the bathroom. I couldn't hear what she said, or couldn't understand, I'm not sure. She came over and kissed my cheek. I tried to say that I was sorry, but I don't know if she heard me. I'm not even sure any sound came out. She called the other girls out and one of the older ones came over and laughed at me, slapped me a few times, then struck me on the side of my head with something. They left me on the bed, naked and uncovered. It was late morning, maybe the afternoon, when Coco found me and woke me up. I had no concept of the passage of time; how long they were there or how long I was unconscious. I was freezing cold and still couldn't move. My breathing was irregular and my chest, torso, and groin were covered with bruises."

"Did you go to the police?"

"Why would they believe me? With my sexual history and how young those girls were, no one would have believed me. No one would have done anything." He shook his head. "Coco was right about that. She said that I would not be believed, and that I would be the one to get in trouble."

"Coco was wrong. I believe you. I would have tried doing something. If nothing else, you needed counseling to deal with what happened to you. You needed a physical examination to make sure you weren't badly injured or burned."

"But," David fell silent and shook his head more. "But, I hurt that girl! It should never have happened."

"It shouldn't have happened, but it did." Sudden realization crashed into Spider's mind. "David, do you think you're responsible? That you caused that girl harm or pain?"

"Yes. I should have been able to control my body better."

Spider shook her head and sighed. "David, you had no control in that situation. You were restrained, assaulted physically, mentally, and sexually; those girls preyed on you. They caused pain and possibly harm to that girl, not you. You were used by them."

"No."

"Yes. You feel guilt over this." Her tone of voice was of a statement, not a question. "David, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You were the victim."

The singer's breath shuddered out as he struggled to control his reaction. "I was the victim? That's impossible. A man cannot be sexually assaulted by a woman."

"Yes, you were the victim. You don't think you were a victim? After everything those girls did to you?"

"Coco said that I must have wanted it. I couldn't have gotten hard otherwise. I wouldn't have ejaculated."

"David, you're old enough to know that last isn't true. A healthy male ejaculates several times each night without any physical or mental stimulation. It's normal. Wanting is unnecessary."

Spider held the man as he shook and eventually broke down. He'd been cursing himself and beating himself up since everything had happened, believing he was the one at fault. That even with the restraints and lacking the physical ability to act out in any way, everything had been his responsibility. The woman's easy acceptance of what happened to him and continued kindness and support made him question everything he'd experienced during the event and believed after it. Doubt crept into his mind, ' _maybe it wasn't my fault. I couldn't do anything._ ' His emotions traveled their course and he was left feeling empty mentally and physically. He sagged completely in the woman's arms and allowed darkness to engulf him, trusting that Melanie would care for him, protect him, and help him put himself back together when he woke.

The man's breathing became steady and deep as his emotions took their toll. Spider sighed softly as she brushed her cheek over his golden hair. She'd realized something had happened to him, but she never suspected anything like this. Nothing to this depth of torment, torture. Personal experience told her that this breakdown would not be the end of the journey of dealing with what had happened to David, but it was a beginning. She drew a deep shuddering breath and released it slowly. "I'm a hypocrite," she whispered. Although, at the same time, she knew this would have been the wrong time to bring anything up. The man needed time to recover his equilibrium as well as process the new information he'd learned concerning his own experience. Almost an hour later, Spider fell into a deep, restless sleep, still holding the singer.

~~~~~

"Melanie," David whispered as his eyes opened. He realized he was still being held and the woman seemed to be asleep. He gasped as memories of their early morning talk rushed back into his mind. "I don't understand why you still extend such kindness to me."

"Because you deserve it. You did nothing wrong." The woman held David as he tried to pull away. She'd awakened to the sound of his voice whispering her name. "You have no reason to hold onto this guilt, David."

He whimpered slightly and rubbed the side of his face against the woman's shoulder. "Still, I wish that girl hadn't been hurt."

"I agree with you there. But, her pain was not your fault." Melanie brushed her hands over the back of David's head. "David, you suffered pain, too." She kept her touch comforting, yet neutral, as he shivered. "At the time, the pain was physical and mental. But, since then, you've suffered spiritual pain, in your soul, because you blamed yourself for what happened. That's not unusual for victims. Victims are told they wanted it, or they asked for it, or they are to blame because of the way they dressed, or moved, or acted, or whatever excuse can be pulled out of thin air."

"Is that what happened in your case?" David wanted to take the words back the moment he voiced them. He couldn't believe how insensitive they sounded to his own ears.

Spider clinked her upper partial plate with her tongue, partially dislodging it before gritting her teeth to reseat it in her mouth. "Yes, my parents blamed me for their violence."

The singer was relieved the woman had appeared to misunderstand what he was asking. "I don't understand how any parent can mistreat their child. I didn't have the best upbringing and when I became a father, I was terrified that I would make the same mistakes. I know I made mistakes. I hope I get the chance to make up for them." He shivered as he thought about being stranded on this deserted island and wondered if he'd die here.

"Don't worry, David," Spider's voice was soft, gentle, and filled with understanding. "You might have made mistakes, but you are a good father."

"How would you know?"

"Back in the early 70's I realized it." The woman shifted slightly so David was more supported. "I think it was California, you were giving a press conference to a bunch of rock 'n' roll reporters at a hotel. It was during the Diamond Dogs tour where you were performing as Halloween Jack with your eye-patch and I stood outside the restaurant or sitting room, conference area, watching. You were a master of controlling the reporters and had them eating out of your hand. I heard something behind me, quiet footsteps, and turned and ended up staring at a tiny, blond haired, little boy. My first thought was what type of idiot would allow him to run around without supervision, my second was how self-possessed the boy was, even at that young of an age. I then realized with how much security was crawling around the hotel that he was safer there than if he was at a school, store, or just sitting in his room at home. He looked up at me and smiled before he looked around the doorjamb. He watched you for a minute or so before squaring up his shoulders and walking over to you as if he was the king of the world. He didn't pay attention to the reporters, security, or any of the hangers' on that were in the room, just walked up to you and put his arms up. You relaxed completely, that was when I realized how stressful dealing with all those fools actually was for you. You gathered him into your arms and leaned in so he could whisper in your ear. You stood up, holding your son, and started to leave the room. One of the reporters yelled at you and asked something like, what was more important, that kid or the interview. You looked right at her and shook your head." Spider laughed at the memory. "You said, 'my son is more important than anything else in my life. That you have to ask, shows there's something wrong with you, luv.' I couldn't believe the look on her face as she glared at you. Little Zowie was smiling over your shoulder and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled and gave him one back before nodding. You turned and left the room. I don't think you were aware of anything other than your son."

"I remember that," David whispered as he nodded against Spider's neck. "He wanted me to see something he'd drawn. He said that it would make me proud."

"Did it," Spider prompted after he was silent for several minutes.

"It made me very proud. We'd gone to the park the day before and fed the ducks. He drew a picture of us together, surrounded by those crazy ducks. He said that it made him happy and he wanted to always remember it." The singer smiled at the memory. "I wonder if we will ever be able to feed the ducks again."

"I'm sure you will. If he still wants to now that he's older. You might have to find another activity to participate in, or maybe just feed the ducks in honor of that memory. I bet he'd appreciate that."

"I don't know if he would. He's so mature for his age." David shifted to attempt sitting under his own strength.

"It's morning," Spider prompted.

"Yes." David's cheeks heated up and turned slightly red, but he didn't flinch when the woman helped him with his morning routine. Afterward, the woman fed the fire some wood and shifted several pots of water onto the grill so it could heat. "Melanie," he prompted, drawing her gaze to him, "you're usually up and about before I wake, what changed?"

"David, I couldn't leave you. You needed to know that I was here for you. That nothing had changed because of everything you told me." Spider came to his side and settled next to him. "I wanted to be here for you. Also, we talked until quite early this morning. I slept in," she finished with a slight yawn.

"What I told you," David began before his words faded away.

"Does not go beyond this cave," she finished.

"Thank you." He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. "You're only the second person I've told."

"I got that feeling, David." She reached for him and brushed her fingers over his upper arm in a supportive gesture. "If you have questions, or if and when you need to talk more, know that I'll be here. It will not change how I feel." She watched the man's face, the shifting expressions, before he lowered his head and nodded. "Good. Are you hungry?"

"Always," he said with a chuckle. "I can almost always eat."

"That's good. I roasted the partridges and the last two rabbits overnight. Would you like to try them?"

"Hmm, that's what I smell. My mouth is watering. Can I have a little of both?"

Spider nodded before standing and returning to the fire. It took her several minutes to clear away all the now dead coals on top of and surrounding the roasting pan. When she pulled off the lid, savory steam rose and made her smile. The birds appeared to be rich, caramelized, golden brown and the rabbits had a crispy brown crust. She lifted a bird and a rabbit to the large serving platter and watched as the meat of both literally fell off the bones. "Looks like they're done." She added a mug of pine tea and a fork and knife before bringing everything to David's side. "I'll get you some fresh water, too."

She'd turned away, missing David's frown. He remembered her explanation from the day before, about not eating breakfast, but he was becoming concerned. When he'd rested against her, he'd become more aware of how much weight she was losing. Thinking back to the plane, what little he remembered, he'd been aware of the thin shoulder he'd been cradled against when he lost consciousness on takeoff. In the raft, the arms that embraced him were thin, but powerful and no bones poked painfully into his head or neck. He thought about her breakdown in the shelter; he'd thought she was slim, but muscular. He looked up as the woman settled next to him and realized with a start that she was extremely underweight and her cheeks were sunken in. He thought about how much work she was doing, how many calories she was burning, and then glanced at the food. He mentally shook his head when he realized the last time he'd seen her actually eat anything had been the elk steaks.

"Are you okay, David?" He could only nod. He didn't feel it was his right to attempt to guilt her into eating with him. Spider lifted a fork filled with roasted partridge and offered it to him. "Now, be truthful. How does it taste?"

He took the offered meat and slowly chewed, savoring it. After he swallowed, he smiled and licked his lips. "That's delicious!" He didn't hesitate to continue eating each bite that Spider offered him. As unobtrusively as possible, he studied the woman's face, hands, body language, breathing, and any other things he could without being noticed. Each new thing he observed made him increasingly concerned. "Melanie, are you okay? Did you not get enough rest?" He tried diffusing his inquiry by couching it in what she'd already inferred with their late, or early, talk and then sleeping in.

"I'm okay. I might not have gotten enough sleep though."

"I wonder how late it is," David wondered aloud as Spider went to wash the dishes. "You haven't been outside yet today, have you?"

"I haven't," Spider answered as she settled the dishes upright to dry. "I should check the meat and see if it can be stored. Also, I need to hunt today and start gathering all those nuts." She dried her hands on her jeans and stood, moving toward the entrance, stopping when she heard the man's sharp intake of breath. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just shifted wrong." David didn't want to admit that he'd been shocked that she planned on hunting today, after all the work she'd done yesterday as well as the late night they'd had, first star-gazing, then their talk. He looked up as an icy breeze blew through the cave. He remembered the reason for the star-gazing: to attempt to determine what the winter might promise as well as how to prepare for a summer garden. "Melanie, what's wrong?" The gust of wind rushed through the cave again right before the woman reappeared, but her expression alerted him that something was wrong.

"We have almost ten inches of snow out there." Spider came over to the man's side. "We won't make it," her voice sounded desolate and without hope.

"But, it's only one snow, right?" He looked at the woman's face and realized something had changed from the day before, beyond their conversation and the added stress brought on by lack of sleep. "Melanie, what did you find out last night?"

The woman's gray eyes fell closed and she shook her head. "I was wrong, very wrong, concerning our position. We're much farther north than I estimated."

"Are we inside the Arctic Circle?"

"Not quite, but we're far within a hundred miles of it. Probably within fifty." She glanced toward the cave entrance and nibbled on her lower lip. "I theorized last night that the ocean current was moderating the climate of the island, but that when the current shifted it would herald the onset of winter. I think when the wind shifted a couple nights ago, it signaled that shift and we're now in the grasp of winter. Yesterday could have been the last day we had to prepare."

"Melanie," David said softly as the full force of her words hit him. "How short will we be?" He looked the woman over and realized if she was this underweight now, she didn't have much more she could lose. He was certain that she'd rather starve to death than allow him to suffer that fate.

"If we can gather nothing else, almost four months short, at least, and that's if we barely eat. But, based on what I saw last night and this morning, I don't think we will be able to put anything into the ground until the beginning of June at the earliest. I'm not even sure about then. Put another way, we might be able to make it to February."

"The ocean current," the singer began, "how much of an effect would or could it have on the onset of spring? It delayed the onset of winter, could it bring an earlier spring?"

Spider appeared to think about his questions and frowned. "I'm not sure. It is possible. I just don't know with any certainty." She looked up her gray eyes meeting his crystal blue ones. "The point may be moot since neither of us could go that long without food. There would be early greens and such that I can harvest once the island comes back to life, but those will be beneficial for our general health, not for energy. And, remember, we are going to need energy to put in a garden, we'll need it even to gather greens." She sighed and shook her head. "I'm still going to go out today and try hunting. The snow will make it easy to track an animal and maybe it'll make it easier to drag everything back."

"Melanie?" David leaned forward and reached for her with his bandaged left hand. "Is it still snowing?" The woman didn't answer verbally, only nodded. "Could you become lost?"

"It's possible, but I've always had a very good sense of direction." She sighed softly. "I can always follow my tracks back home." When his hand touched her arm, all she did was glance up, their eyes meeting. He was relieved that she didn't pull away. "If I can get at least one large animal, it would buy us another three weeks, at least. David, I have to try."

"I know," he knew she was right, but he felt fearful about her physical condition. "You will leave my arm loose?" The woman nodded. "I would ask how long you'll be gone, but you have no way of knowing. If you get back quickly enough, will you still try gathering nuts?"

"I should," Spider said with a sigh. "It'll depend on a lot of things though. I need to put on my boots and check the meat that's already drying." She quickly slipped the heavy boots on her feet and left the cave. She returned a few minutes later and gathered one of the cargo containers. "It's dry. Those high winds just desiccated the strips." Fifteen minutes later, she returned with the container, taking it to the raised area and opening it and spreading the strips out. "There's a light frost on it, hopefully the heat in here will melt it and allow it to evaporate."

"Do you think I'd be able to nibble at a partridge or rabbit while you're gone? I don't know if I'm strong enough to use a fork, but I could eat with my fingers." David blushed at the thought of such bad table manners, but this was a very different situation than he normally found himself in.

"You can probably use a fork if the food is already torn apart. Or maybe a spoon would be better. You wouldn't run the risk of spearing yourself with it."

"Too bad we don't have a spork, that would be the best of both worlds," he chuckled. He startled when Spider laughed and went to the back wall of the cave where her guitars were lined up. "Melanie?" He watched as she dug into first one, then another of the cases before he heard an 'uh huh!' from the woman.

"Ask and the pack rat will usually be able to find it," Spider said as she handed the hybrid utensil over the man.

"Very cool!" David nodded as he looked at the spork. "I think this will work famously."

"Funny how something that seemed so silly could actually be quite useful in the right situation." She went to the fire and removed the lid from the roasting pan, removing one of the birds and the rabbit before replacing it. Over the next several minutes, she tore the meat from the bones and settled it on a serving platter. She made a mug of the pine tea and brought both items over David's side, adding a couple partial bottles of water as well. "Would you like the book back?" She added it to everything else when David nodded.

"Yes. It helped the time pass and kept me from getting into trouble." He glanced down his body and gave her a twisted smile. "I'm not sure how much trouble I can actually get into."

"Probably a lot if you attempt to do more than you're able to. Too much movement or just moving your arm too much would be problematic." She tested the joint and the surrounding muscles, tendons, and ligaments. "It appears to be more stable today. I was worried after leaving it unsupported all day yesterday." She gave him a gentle smile.

"You'll get ready to leave now?"

"Yes. The sun hasn't reached its zenith, but it isn't far from it. And, the sooner I can find something to hunt, the sooner I can get back."

"I know. Good luck, Melanie. Please be safe."

"Thank you and I will, David. Don't try doing more than you safely can." Spider picked up her sling and rocks along with her spears and thrower. She glanced back at the man and hoped he'd be all right while she was gone.

David shivered when the wind rushed through the cave, only then did he realize the woman hadn't put on a coat or heavy sweater, or anything to protect against the cold. He remembered how she described herself as a breathing space heater, but even so, he thought she should wear something to protect against the cutting wind. He frowned and shook his head. The book was calling to him, but he couldn't pull his thoughts from the woman's physical condition. He knew she was losing weight, quickly and he had his doubts that she was eating anything at all. After close to an hour of his thoughts chasing themselves around in his mind, he sighed and shook his head. He turned to his side and opened the book, quickly finding himself transported back to the end of the last ice age and a world that should have felt completely alien to this one, but didn't.

After about fifty pages, he glanced around the cave and found it was still empty. He nibbled at the meat and realized he did find it to be tasty even though it was lacking the normal seasoning he was used to. It had a clean taste to it that didn't need to be covered up by a lot of herbs and spices. Most of the bird was gone and he'd read another fifty or so pages when a gust of wind announced the woman's return. He looked up and watched as the woman entered, carefully balancing five birch bark boxes. "What did you find?"

"More honey," the woman answered softly.

"Did you have luck hunting?" He resisted the impulse to hold his breath as he waited for the answer.

"Yes. I got an elk and a moose. There are several deer down in the clearing and I'm going to try getting at least one of them, but I didn't want the honey to spill. It took too much effort to collect," she said with a chuckle. The boxes were placed on the raised area, well beyond David's reach. "I'll be back."

She disappeared again as David plotted in an effort to figure out a way to reach the honey. "I really do have a sweet tooth," he admitted as his mouth watered and he wondered if he could crawl to where the boxes rested. He jerked back with a start as he remembered the woman's words about the effort collecting it required and shook his head in disgust with himself. She was working so hard that he was worried about her health and he was plotting in an effort to figure out how to eat everything. He startled as the wind gusted into the cave again and could have sworn it felt warmer than that morning.

After entering the cave, Spider stood looking at David for several minutes. She added wood to the fire before she came to the man's side. "How does your arm feel?"

"Okay. I was able to eat today, but I've tried being careful." He was curious why she'd studied him so carefully. "Why?"

"I was able to get three deer. That's a lot of meat I need to cut up tomorrow and I was debating if you'd be able to help."

"Maybe. I can try," David immediately offered. "I really do want to help."

"I need to know it will not delay your healing or jeopardize your shoulder. I'll check it in the morning. Right now, I'm going to try gathering some nuts. The wind shifted and most of the snow has disappeared."

"I thought it felt warmer!"

"It is warmer, but we can't become complacent. I need to get as much in as quickly as possible. This morning was a wake up call. Are you enjoying the book still?"

"Yes. Very much. Are you hungry?" He hoped she was.

"Just a little. I can wait until I get a basket or two of nuts." She stood and shrugged into the large gathering basket with shoulder straps. "I won't be long. You're still good?"

"I am." He waited until she'd left the cave before frowning. He was even more certain now that she wasn't eating. "Melanie, you need to take care of yourself. If something happens to you, who will take care of me?" He leaned back against the cases and shook his head. "I sound like a baby! Needing to be taken care of!" His words coursed through his head. After several minutes, he had to admit to himself that he didn't have the first idea of where to start surviving in this situation and he glanced toward his bandaged left hand and knew that even if he did, he was physically unable to do anything. He glanced toward the book and drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "If there's any fact in this book, maybe I can learn something so when I'm physically able, I can contribute." He returned his attention to the pages of the book, reading continuously until the woman returned with the first load of nuts.

"I'm only dropping them off. There's enough light left to get at least one more basket of them. I'll sort and crack them tonight." With those few words, the woman disappeared again. She managed to make two more trips before the light was completely gone. She emptied the last basket of nuts and placed the gathering basket near the front entrance before adding wood to the fire. She checked on David and smiled at how stable his shoulder felt. "You really are enjoying that book," she commented when she realized he was almost finished with it, nodding before returning to the pile of nuts.

"Melanie, eat something, please," David called to her.

"I'm not really hungry. If I can get these sorted and some of them cracked, I can make some storage baskets for them tomorrow. I found another swampy area with cattails. If it continues warming up, I'll collect cattail roots, leaves, and stalks tomorrow before I start drying the meat." Spider's hands never stopped sorting the various nuts as she spoke. Within an hour, she'd sorted the huge pile of nuts into several significantly smaller ones.

"They don't look that impressive, now." The singer frowned and shook his head.

"They'll look even less impressive once they've been cracked and the hulls are gone."

"Huh, a lot of work for very little." David frowned as he thought about how long the woman had spent collecting them and how little she would have to show for it. "Now I know why nuts are so expensive in the grocery store."

"A lot goes into the harvesting, cleaning, and hulling of them. But, I disagree it's very little. These little bundles are packed with nutrition: vitamins, protein, carbohydrates, fiber, all in a cute and very tasty little package!"

"You like nuts!" The singer's smile lit up the cave.

"Yes, I do. They're little powerhouses. If they weren't worth it, I wouldn't waste my very limited, very precious time collecting them. I'm starting to wonder if I should crack them now or later after we're snowed in. I could spread them out and let the hulls dry."

"That might be a good idea. I could help then." He frowned. "How do we crack them without those special little nutcrackers?" He also wondered why the woman didn't call him on his cheeky exclamation.

"With a rock," she answered immediately.

"Ouch!"

"No, you're not resting them in your hand to hit them." She misunderstood why he said ouch. "You'll rest them on a hard surface, either another rock or I'd prefer bone or wood that has some give to it. Next, strike it with a rock, held in the hand. Just hard enough to crack the outer hull. Then you pick out the meat with your fingers, your nail, or a twig." She looked up and saw the man was trying hard not to break into hysterics. She reviewed their conversation quickly and realized his comments could have been taken a very different way and based on his struggle, he'd meant the words in that different way. "You're terrible, David." She smiled widely, taking the sting out of her words.

Losing his battle with laughter, David broke down and laughed until his sides hurt. "Ouch, ouch," he moaned in between gasping breaths.

Spider moved to his side and rubbed over his now aching ribs. When his blue eyes met hers, she smiled at him. "I'm glad to hear you laugh, David."

"It feels good. Even if my sides hurt now." His expression turned serious. "Before, when," he shook his head and looked away, "when that happened. I never thought I'd laugh again. At least, not real laughter." He looked back to the woman's face. "During Serious Moonlight, there were points in the show where I was supposed to crack a joke or say something that would make people smile or become more engaged. It hurt inside to tell the jokes, or say the words. I stopped telling things off the cuff and stuck to the script."

"It explains some of your later shows where you repeated yourself or skipped it entirely. You sometimes sounded stilted when you spoke more freely to the crowd."

"Yeah. No one knew, except Coco. And, of course, I knew."

"How are you doing, David?"

"I think I'm doing better. Without the feeling of mind and body numbing guilt, I'm able to look back at what happened to me in a different way. There was nothing I could have done. Still, I can't help but think there had to be something I could have done to prevent it from happening."

"Do you have any idea how they got in your room in the first place?"

"I asked management about that. They just said that no one would have given anyone a key. I couldn't very well tell them why I was asking." David shrugged. "I supposed they could have picked the lock."

"If they knew how to pick a lock, that could very well have been the way they got in. Learning to pick a lock is pretty common whether someone grew up in a rural area or in the city." Spider shook her head. "In some situations it's almost a necessity."

"Yeah. I was famous for forgetting my key to that haunted place in England. I finally learned how to pick the lock or just didn't lock it at all." He looked up horrified. "I wonder if I left the door unlocked?"

"I doubt it, David. Most hotels have doors that lock automatically. It's in the past. There's nothing you can do to change it. What you can do is move forward and make certain it never happens again. Creating theories about the events that led up to the attack, helps you stay safe."

The man allowed his head to hang for a moment before nodding. "You're right. I always had a bodyguard or someone in my hotel room after that. If nothing else, I felt secure." He smiled at the woman.

"Feeling secure is a good thing." She smiled back at him, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she yawned.

"How late is it?"

"The moon was rising when I brought the last basket of nuts back. It's late. We really need to get to sleep soon." She glanced around and climbed to her feet. "I'm going to check my kills. I'll put a roast on to cook overnight and most of the day tomorrow. There's enough rabbit and partridge to eat for breakfast if I wrap it and set it in the cold. I can then warm it over in the morning." She bustled about the cave and added wood to the fire, before exiting, returning with a large roast that she prepped with salt and pepper, then buried in the hot coals from the fire.

David watched as she wrapped the leftover meat and exited the cave. It was several minutes before she returned empty-handed, causing him to frown. "Melanie, aren't you going to eat something?"

She frowned at him and shook her head. "It's late. I'm really not hungry. And, David, we need to get some rest. You need it so you can heal. I need it so I can actually accomplish something tomorrow." She returned her attention to the fire.

David looked at her sadly. He was positive that she wasn't eating and he had a new concern, that she was pushing herself harder than she should. Her words echoed in his mind and he wondered what she would have to do so she felt she'd accomplished something. "Then, come rest, Melanie," he said softly. When she reached for his arm to bandage it, he shook his head. "Let me try sleeping with it loose. If it's okay in the morning, I can help work on drying the meat." When the woman looked as if she was going to disagree, he smiled. "Please? I want to try; I need to try." He didn't realize his eyes looked as if he was begging for her approval.

"Okay. But, if you have any pain during the night, wake me immediately and I'll bandage it. Okay?" She waited for his agreement. "Do you want me to sleep with you?"

"Yes, but can I hold you?"

"Why would you want to hold me?" His question took her by surprise; although to be fair, her question did the same to him.

"If my right arm lays across your shoulders, it'll stay in a position that won't put a strain on it." He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

"That would mean I would lay on your left arm."

"Only the upper arm."

"I guess that's okay. It would make it easier for you to wake me up." Spider checked David over and frowned. "Do you want me to remove these clothes? You have irritation at your waist."

"It would be nicer sleeping." He smiled weakly. He again felt helpless.

"That's true. You've said that you usually sleep in the nude, so there's a greater risk of your skin becoming irritated or the clothing simply binding around you. You're not used to clothing rubbing you at night." She removed the clothing and smiled when he actually sighed softly to be rid of it. "Rest well, David," she said softly as she laid down.

"Relax, Melanie, I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a gentle monotone when he realized how tense the woman's body was. It was most of an hour before the woman relaxed enough to fall into a restless sleep. For David, it was an hour after that. If he'd had any questions about what had happened to her, he didn't have them any longer. Her tense muscles and her evident discomfort with being held, was identical to his own after the attack. He brushed his hand over her back, side, and arm, trying to smooth away some of the tension and let her know that he wouldn't hurt her. When sleep finally claimed him, he slept deeply and dreamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the ages of the four girls who are portrayed in this story. The two eldest girls would have been fifteen in 1983 and were fraternal twins. The middle girl was thirteen and was their cousin. The youngest was eleven and was the baby sister of the twins. The elder three girls were extremely sexually aggressive and it was known around the school that they regularly engaged in sexual "relationships" with male teachers.
> 
> Don't judge Coco negatively, when I was growing up the idea that a man could not be raped by a female was a common "truth" taught in sex ed classes. That idea is still viewed as truth among many so call law enforcement organizations as well as sexual abuse helplines. Many people still do not believe that a man can be raped, nor can ejaculate without physical stimulation and sexual attraction. A healthy male ejaculates several times each night, so called "wet dreams", and it is not necessarily related to sexual dreams, external sexual stimulation, or self-stimulation.
> 
> David's almost compulsive love of honey is based on some of Sailor's comments on BowieChat. It had come up during conversations we had on favorite foods, condiments commonly used, and the best deserts we seldom had the pleasure of eating. Sailor used to mention that he skipped butter on his biscuits and used honey instead. One chat he mentioned that he liked honey so much, he'd sneak into the cupboard and scoop some straight into his mouth.
> 
> The conversation on nuts in this chapter was a continuation of the earlier one.
> 
> Based on Sailor's comments in chats, he presented as an individual who was extremely intelligent and sensitive and I've attempted to convey those traits in his words, statements, and even questions in this story. I hope it accurately reflects the real man and not simply a "persona" that was created for BowieChat.
> 
> A word about the last paragraph in this chapter, it's been my experience that those who have suffered an assault (sexual or otherwise) tend to recognize the traits in others. David's understanding and comments in future chapters are predicated on the sexual assault he retold in this chapter.


	10. December 9, 1987 - A Day in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the sun stimulates more than just the brain as David and Spider mentally explore their thoughts and emotions. Will yesterday's overly successful hunt be enough to set them up for a long winter? Or it the start of something new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The basic instructions Spider gives David in this chapter concerning cutting tongues of meat for drying is based on that which I was given when I was a child helping my grandfather. It is not meant to describe the methods used by professional chefs or even by butchers. It is closer to the methods used in the 1800's and prior and is more "quick and dirty", focused on just getting the job done. The knife I picture used here is a Ka-Bar, a military knife used by the United State Marine Corp, later designated the Mark 2 Combat Knife, by the same. Today it those first blades are sought after as collector's items and new versions are still available. They are sturdy knives with numerous uses other than in hand-to-hand combat.

~~~~~

December 9, 1987

Spider stirred slightly, shaking her head and batting at the arm that embraced her shoulders. When the arm tightened around her, she woke with a gasp and started to panic. At first, the soft, gentle voice behind her didn't register, but eventually David's deep monotone provided a counter point to her rapidly beating heart. As she calmed, Melanie forced her eyes to open and stopped swatting the man's arm. "David," she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he said gently into her hair. He drew in a deep breath and realized the woman smelled like winter, not surprising considering all the time she spent outside. "It's okay, Melanie; you're safe."

"I know. I just," she allowed her voice to fade away before she could say anything more. "I'm not comfortable being held," the woman finished weakly.

"I understand."

Spider shifted and nibbled at her lower lip. "Yes, you do." She moved away from the singer and hurried over to the fire, trying to hide her continued discomfort by building the fire back up and checking on the cooking roast. Finally, she looked at the man nervously.

"It's okay, Melanie. I do understand. You don't have to say anything now. But, I'm here when you're ready." David smiled gently and nodded.

"Okay." The woman stood quickly and left the cave, returning a few minutes later with the leftovers from the day before. She took the largest stew pot to the pool and filled it partially with water before placing it over the fire, It only took her a few minutes to tear apart the meat and cut up some cattail roots, adding them to the pot. A single packet each of salt and pepper was sprinkled in before she set the lid in place. Her gray eyes looked around nervously when she realized her name was being called out softly. "Yes, David?"

"It's definitely morning." The singer blushed slightly as he forced a slightly skewed smile to his face.

Spider nodded and came to his side, gently assisting him with his morning routine. After washing and drying her hands, she returned to his side, waiting until he appeared comfortable again. "How does you shoulder feel?"

David rolled his shoulder slightly, testing the joint for pain, stiffness, and strength. "It feels okay." His smile came easily with the comment. "I think I can help today."

"We'll see. May I check it?"

"Of course." He realized she'd always been sensitive about touching him only with his permission. His newest insight into her possible past allowed him to understand her behavior. He could only hope that eventually she'd become comfortable enough to open up to him. Her eyes traced over his face and neck as he considered how much more calm and open she appeared around him; he hoped reliving his experience had something to do with the change. He watched her actions and tried to stay relaxed.

Spider gently palpated his shoulder, shifting the man's arm in several directions before placing stress on the joint, stretching it slightly. The brief grimace that crossed David's face wasn't unexpected, but the amount of strength she'd had to exert before it appeared was surprising. "The joint does feel stable. You can help for a little while, but we need to limit the amount of time. I do not want you to over stress your shoulder. It's healing very well right now, and I don't want to jeopardize the progress you've already made."

"Agreed," David said with a smile. "What did it look like outside?"

"It's cold, so I'll get you dressed and wrap you up as well as I can. If you start to feel cold, I'll bring you inside immediately. There wasn't any new snow, but there was a heavy frost. The meat is probably partially frozen, which, while it makes the work colder also makes cutting the pieces slightly easier."

"This will be a learning experience." David frowned slightly. He'd always been more comfortable with simple recipes when he cooked, so preparing cuts of meat from scratch was something completely new to him.

"It will, but you'll learn quickly." Melanie was distracted by the sound of the bubbling water and went to the fire, shifting the pot out of the direct flames before stirring the contents. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." She tested one of the cattail roots against the side of the pot and nodded. "Would you like some noodles in it?"

"If they're already made, they would be nice, but otherwise, I don't think we should wait." He drew in a deep breath and smiled. "It already smells delicious."

"It's just leftovers." The woman checked the other pots she'd put on to heat and added pine needles to one, moving the other to the dish container and emptied the water into it along with a small amount of soap. After refilling the pot, she returned it to the fire.

David frowned as he realized the woman's openness had regressed. Melanie seemed to want to disappear again and he had to wonder at her level of discomfort. " _Was her attack very recent? Or was it so long ago that her behavior has become part of her?_ " His thoughts continued until he was brought out of his silence as she moved to his side with his breakfast. He was uncomfortable that she wasn't eating, yet she worried about him going hungry or even missing a single meal. "Melanie?" The woman's gaze met his. "Thank you for allowing me to hold you last night. I think that helped my shoulder a lot. It was a little stiff and painful last night when I fell asleep, but it really does feel good this morning."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry for hitting you this morning."

A very undignified snort escaped the singer before he could stop it. "That wasn't hitting. I've been struck much harder for simply looking at someone the wrong way."

"Still, I shouldn't have behaved that way."

"Melanie," David broke in, "forget about it. You didn't hurt me." He stopped himself before he added his thoughts about what he was learning about her. He smiled as the scent of the soup made his mouth water. "That smells delicious."

"I think you just like to eat, David," Spider said with a smile. She held out a spoonful of the soup to the singer. He finished the bowl and she dished up another that he inhaled almost as quickly. "I really do not understand why you're not overweight with as much as you eat."

"Fast metabolism?"

"Probably." She quickly washed up the dish and spoon, before checking the various pots over the fire, shifting a few things around before returning to David's side. "I'd like to start working on the meat soon, would it be too early to help you dress?"

"Once I'm dressed, I can come help?"

"Yes." Spider smiled as David seemed to beam at her, his smile was so wide and so bright. She found his enthusiasm endearing. "I'll get you clothes." She stood and gathered a new set of clothes that included long underwear and a button down wool work shirt. This time it only took twenty minutes to get the singer dressed. "Give me few minutes to prepare someplace for you outside."

David watched the woman leave. He shook his head slightly at how tired she already appeared and how her gait had changed. Silently, he swore that he'd watch her and try to prevent any further decline. He was still watching the entrance when she reappeared, only to exit again a minute later with a stack of blankets. He bowed his head and closed his eyes as he wondered what he could possibly do to help her with his limited mobility. His head jerked up and his eyes flashed open when he heard his name called. He hadn't heard her reenter the cave or move to his side. "Melanie," he said softly as he forced a smile to his face. "How do you want to do this?"

"Just like we did before, if you're comfortable with it." She took a few minutes to study his face. He appeared concerned with something and silently wondered if he doubted her ability to care for him. Or it was possible he was still suffering the psychological effects of reliving his traumatic experience. She wasn't sure, but she silently swore to be there for him and do anything and everything in her power to help him heal and eventually return home to his son.

"Okay." David wasn't able to say anything else. Spider carefully placed David's right arm around her neck and lifted him. The man was certain it wasn't as easy for the woman to lift him today as it had been the day before, but she didn't complain or offer an alternative. He buried his face against her neck as they exited into the bright, morning light of an icy morning. When he pulled away to look around, he was amazed at the beauty of the thin blanket of unbroken frost and icicles that sounded like musical chimes when the wind blew. "It's, just wow, it's gorgeous," he whispered as he was gently arranged inside the end of the wood shed. He glanced at the woman and saw her smile back at him. He almost said something about how she looked, catching himself before he could say anything because he suspected her panic from waking would be too fresh.

"It is beautiful," Spider said softly as she glanced over the open space that stretched below them. "Best yet," she said as she turned back to him, "I think we have almost enough meat with this hunt to last a long winter. I would like to get in at least one more large animal, two would be even better so we have a buffer. Then, once it's cold and stays cold, I'll bring in some partridges and rabbits, maybe boar or wild pigs, that we can allow to freeze. They will give us some variety."

"You said you were going to bring in cattail roots, too."

"Yes, and cattail leaves, reeds, birch bark, and if time allows, a couple tree trunks that can be split and carved out to use as trough planters. Maybe chunks of tree trunks to core for flower pots. I still haven't found suitable stone slabs for lanterns. Right now, I'm using the flashlight in the storage room, but as I said before, the batteries are limited."

"Could we make torches?"

Spider looked surprised for a moment before chuckling softly. "Of course, torches would be the perfect answer. Thank you."

"Just thought about medieval castles. It seemed to fit."

"It does," the woman said as she wrapped several blankets around David's shoulders. "How do you feel?"

"Okay," he said with a nod. "These blankets are warm."

"Good." The woman moved away and shifted a heavy, metal table with short legs so it rested in front of David. His blue eyes followed her movements as she left and returned with a large hunk of meat that looked a lot like a rump roast. "I'll start you off with a boneless cut of meat. This is a cut from the rump of the moose."

"It is a rump roast," David exclaimed with a chuckle. "I thought it looked familiar!"

"Yes." Spider simply smiled at his enthusiasm. He really did remind her of a little boy at times, even though he was definitely all man. She realized with a shock that she was aware of his masculinity and the appeal of his physical perfection. It was an awareness she'd never experienced before. The physical appearance of the men she worked with or was around wasn't something she'd ever thought about. She smiled at him when she realized she'd been silent much longer than she'd intended. "You find the positive in almost every situation, don't you, David?" She hoped her words would cover her extended pause.

"Not usually." He did realize that her expression had changed; her face appeared expressive and open again. But, beyond that, she was looking at him differently. Mentally, he wasn't sure about the change, still his body reacted, his breath was a little more rapid, his heart beat a little faster, and his groin tightened slightly as he swayed toward her.

"Maybe, not usually, but you are right now. And, I thank you for it. You make me believe that everything will work out." Spider averted her eyes and drew one of her heavy military knives, drawing a shocked intake of breath from the man as he pulled away. "The blade is extremely sharp, so don't test it by running it over your finger." She smiled and returned her gaze to his. "The easiest way I've found to control the blade is to hold it at the guard at the top of the hilt," she explained as she demonstrated. "It doesn't take a heavy hold, just a light touch. You draw the blade toward you, starting with the blade's shaft and finishing at the point." The blade cut through the air as she showed the technique a few times before performing the same action on the meat. "The easiest way to process it will be to cut long strips, or tongues, of meat thinly from the main hunk." Long slices of meat fell away as she made several passes over the firm, partly frozen roast. "Now, you try it." She handed the blade to David. After a first pass, she corrected his finger placement and nodded for him to try again. "Very good. You're a natural, David." She looked at his face and had to catch her breath at the sparkle in his eyes. She swayed toward him for a moment before pulling back to sit on her heels. As he concentrated on his job, she stood and knelt by her own work table, quickly cutting strips from the rib meat. Over the next thirty minutes, she gathered their strips and hung them to dry in between cutting more. The little wind tunnel was working wonderfully and the metal roof had a benefit of heating because of the sunlight hitting it, warming the air inside, and preventing the meat from completely freezing on the wires.

"Melanie?"

"Yes, David?" She chuckled when she realized his table was empty. "You need another roast." She cut a rump roast from the elk and placed it in front of him. Between the two of them, they quickly processed the two large animals. With matching smiles, they both sat back and relaxed as they looked over the long wires filled with tongues of meat.

"Are you sure it will be enough?"

Spider looked toward David. "I think it will be. We have the three deer still to process. How much more can you eat?" Her tone held a hint of disapproval that was completely overshadowed by her gentle smile.

"It must be your great cooking," David said with a chuckle, "I've never looked forward more to my meals."

"My cooking is not that great. It's plain, maybe a tiny bit of salt or pepper."

"It doesn't need a lot of extras. The meals you give me taste wonderful."

"David, maybe it's just that you're happy to be alive."

The singer shrugged and drew a shocked breath as his right shoulder tightened up.

"David," the woman was at his side immediately. "Your shoulder?" He nodded and drew another shaky breath as he grimaced. "I'm sorry, I allowed you to do too much."

"No," he almost shouted, "I've barely done anything. I think it's just a little cold." He sighed as Melanie's fingers traced over his shoulder and massaged the muscles. "Oh, that feels good." His head fell back as she worked the joint until it popped softly. "Oh," he gasped out, "oh, that felt amazing." He looked toward his shoulder and then at the woman. Her gray eyes captured his and he again swayed toward her. " _Girl with the mousy hair_ ," his mind offered. " _Just a little girl with gray eyes_ ," he thought. " _It's an appealing combination_ ," he said silently.

"Are you all right, David?" Spider couldn't understand her reaction. She'd never had a physical attraction to anyone and never thought she could or would have one.

"I'm all right." The singer battled to bring his mind and body back under control. This wasn't the appropriate situation for his behavior. At least not while he had so many questions about the woman's past. He tried to think of an explanation that made sense, yet wouldn't appear threatening. "It's just when my shoulder popped, it really did feel amazing. Pardon me for describing it this way, but it felt almost orgasmic."

"Why would you need to be pardoned?" Spider continued working over his shoulder, including his upper back and neck in her ministrations. "The relief of pain can be physically stimulating as well as mentally stimulating." She thought that the explanation could apply to her own reaction. Helping someone, taking pain away, was rewarding. "How's that feel?"

David smiled as her hands left his shoulder. "It feels normal. Almost as if it had never been injured." He looked at his shoulder and moved it more. Surprise was the only description of what he felt. There was a slight hitch in the joint, but it was similar to what he experienced after a show or a long session playing his guitar. He looked up. "It doesn't feel any worse than after a show."

"Was your shoulder injured during the tour?" She mentally reviewed his performance and realized there were several moves he did night after night that were extremely stressful on his shoulders. Some were overtly stressful, others less so, but still could have resulted in injury.

"No, at least not that it was described as injured. I did strain it a lot, during the dances with Melissa and especially during Fashion. That was where I was physically thrown around." He slowly stretched his shoulder and felt the muscles relax even more although the cold was settling around the joint, too. "It's cold out." The next thing he knew, his shoulder was completely covered by the blankets and the woman was rubbing over it gently to warm him even more.

"During your show, it might have been a little more than a strain." She shifted to sit back on her heels. "I should take you inside. You've done more than enough work today."

"Perhaps, I can just sit here?" David felt bad going inside the warm cave while Melanie continued working.

"I guess. I just do not want you to become chilled."

"How about this, if I start to feel chilly, I'll tell you." David gave her an innocent smile, that actually came across as cheeky. He knew he'd won when she chuckled and shook her head.

"Okay." Spider returned to processing the deer and almost two hours later had finished with them. Thin tongues of deer meat were hanging on the newest strings of wire, drying like the elk and moose. "It doesn't look like that much now." She stood at the mouth of the little tunnel and shook her head.

"Melanie? That's a lot of meat, right?"

"It is," she said with a sigh, "but, I'm not convinced it will be enough." She turned toward the singer and frowned. "I have a tendency to have a fully stocked larder. If my three chest freezers aren't practically overflowing, I feel as if I've failed to prepare for the unexpected."

David thought a moment about her answer in relation to her age and frowned. "You almost sound like people who lived through World War II or I guess the Great Depression would be more applicable in the United States."

"I didn't live through it; it was over by the time I was born, but the effects of it were still fresh. Both physical and psychological, especially the psychological effects." She shook her head as she settled down next to the man. "It's one of the big reasons I'm so fixated on saving seeds and collecting varieties that have been successful in the past. If they could supply a family in the 1800's or early 1900's, they should be able to do the same in the 1980's and in the future. My grandparents used to tell me stories about the city folk who didn't have access to land to grow their own food and how they used to come to the 'country' to try finding food to eat. They didn't know the first thing about growing something, harvesting the results, preserving it, even preparing it to eat in some cases. My one grandmother taught me how to can: vegetables, fruit, meat. How to make my own jams and jellies. My grandfather taught me to hunt, fish, put in a garden, collect firewood, etc. Those old skills are lost arts in many ways."

"So, you collect seeds as a way to hedge against the next depression?" He looked at her with a curious expression. His own family had been solidly middle class for the time, but even they sometimes had shortfalls of food or less variety.

"No, I collect them for my garden."

"Your garden?" Now he was confused.

"Yes, I grow a large portion of my food."

"Where do you live? You said before that you live in the city."

"New York City. I have property in the northern portion of the state where I have a farm to raise grains, but in the city, I have a portion of the warehouse I own converted into a greenhouse. I grow most of my vegetables there. I'm not a big fruit or berry person, although I do have an orchard upstate as well as several berry patches there and in the greenhouse. I just give them away or make jams, jellies, and preserves with them."

"Wow, that's fascinating. Makes your food bills a lot lower." He realized with a start that for once, David Bowie and Practical, fit together.

"It makes them near zero. I have animals on the farm upstate; both cattle and chickens. I have an older couple who manages it for me, but I was up there at least twice a month during the growing season."

David shivered a little and the woman gathered him against her. "Will a garden be very different from the greenhouse? How large of a garden are we going to need." He sagged against her, enjoying her warmth and gentle touch.

"A garden will be very different from a greenhouse in irrigation control, sunlight, soil maintenance, harvest, and even yield. The size of the garden will depend on how many varieties of plants we want to put in. I'm leaning toward trying to make it as large as we possibly can just because we don't know how well it will produce. I have looked at the soil and it appears to be very fertile and rich in nutrients. Now, sometimes looks can be deceptive, but with how well the natural plants grow, the trees, the amaranth, etc, I think it is as good as it appears. Poor soil does not support healthy plant life. Those," she waved toward the area beyond their ledges, "are not only healthy plants, they are extremely healthy ones."

"I've never put in a garden. What will go into it?" David was starting to feel the cold. He was certain the temperature was dropping and every so often a gust of wind would wrap around the piles of wood and brush over his face. He snuggled against the woman and drew in a deep breath. She still smelled like the winter air; he glanced from under her chin and realized with a start that Melanie had not been working under shelter and had been exposed to the wind and cold wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans and a light-weight button down shirt. But, she was radiating heat. She was flushed and he thought she might be feverish. "Are you okay, Melanie?"

"I'm fine, but you're getting cold." She shifted David away so he sat on his own before kneeling beside him. "I need to get you inside." His arm was quickly wrapped around her neck and he was lifted, cradled against her body, and supported in her arms. Without further words, she carried him into the cave, settling him on his bed. "Let me bring everything inside and we'll continue to talk about the garden." She exited the cave and returned with the blankets, another trip brought in a load of wood for the fire. After she'd built the remaining coals into a fire, she cleared the roasting pan and checked the roast. "Do you want to eat now, David?"

"I could eat," he said with a gentle smile.

Spider smiled back before refocusing on the food. She lifted the roast to a serving platter, cutting it into thick slices before she dug several of the cattail pieces from the soup leftover from breakfast. "While you're eating, I'm going to gather some more nuts. They really are nutritional powerhouses."

"You're not going to eat with me?"

The concern in David's voice drew her eyes to meet his. "I'm actually not hungry. I don't know why, but my appetite just isn't there." She frowned and glanced away. "Will you be comfortable feeding yourself?" She thought perhaps he preferred being fed and waited on. She'd read interviews from people who had described him as 'high maintenance'.

"Melanie," the singer's voice broke and he chewed his lower lip, "are you sure you're okay? You've been working very hard; you should be hungry." He looked at her worried but sighed after less than a minute. "But, if you prefer gathering nuts over eating with me, I understand." Inside, he berated himself for trying to guilt her into eating with him.

Spider frowned and shook her head. She glanced at him and saw his expression. It took her a minute to recognize that he was angry, ' _with himself_ ,' she realized. Her heart melted and she felt guilty for believing the rumors in those interviews. He was concerned, not trying to be high maintenance or manipulative. "David," she said softly, "I need to bring in as much as I can. We have no idea how long this weather will hold off."

"But, Melanie," he broke in, "you need to eat. You need to take care of yourself." He drew a deep, shaking breath and looked toward the cave floor. "I'm not physically able to take care of myself."

The woman's heart broke at the self-loathing she heard in David's voice. She watched as he struggled for the words to express himself. Admitting that he needed help was not easy for him, admitting even more, that he was incapable of doing for himself, was even worse.

"I might not be able to take care of myself for quite some time," he said as he looked at her. "I depend on you." His voice finally cracked and he fell silent, unable to continue.

"David, you are healing and growing stronger." Spider moved to the singer's side and touched his arm in silent support. "It's just, I can't abide the possibility that I could fail you." His crystal blue eyes jerked up to study her face. "It's a matter of time before you're strong enough to care for yourself again, but until then, allow me to do what's required to take care of you. You need to have nutritious food to heal and regain your strength; you need me to provide for you."

"Melanie," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"If I bring you your food, you can feed yourself?" He nodded. She stood and quickly returned with a plate filled with the soft cattail roots and two slabs of the roast which were falling apart. Setting the food and silverware next to him. "I won't be very long. There were a lot of nuts still out there, but I am feeling tired."

"Don't push yourself so much."

"The weather," she stopped when he growled.

"Fuck the weather!" David shook his head in irritation. "Melanie, your health is more important. If your health fails, we both fail." Suddenly his thoughts solidified in his mind. "We have a lot stored already, just think about taking some time to rest before you push yourself more." He wanted to say more, but was afraid that anything more would be too much.

"David," her voice was sharp, "if I fail to get enough food set in, it won't matter what my health is like, we will both die. That meat out there," she nodded toward the outer wall of the cave, "is one piece of the puzzle, one part of keeping us alive and healthy." Her voice was calmer and more gentle as she continued. "If one more load of nuts, or a basket of cattail roots, or a few more partridges and rabbits can provide one more meal for us, the effort I put out now will be worth it. Nuts help supply part of the nutritive requirements we have now and will have in the future. Think of it this way, if we are snowed in and trapped inside this cave for possibly four to six months, we are going to need numerous trace nutrients to stay healthy physically and mentally. Also, we will need vitamin D which we normally get from exposure to the sun, most nuts are loaded with it. Vitamin D helps with physical and mental health and maintaining a healthy immune system."

"I understand, Melanie. It's just," he frowned and shook his head, sadly this time, "I'm worried about you. You look extremely tired, even now. You have to still have pain from the injuries you suffered on the plane. Please, take care of yourself."

The woman looked at his puppy-dog eyes and sighed softly. His voice was begging and she had to silently admit that his insight into the state of her injuries was accurate. "I will take care of myself, David, but it's more important to me to take care of you." He shook his head in disagreement. "Please, providing for you, it's vital to me." She stood before he could say anything else. "I'll be back shortly. When I come back, we can talk about the garden." The man sighed and looked away. "David, eat the food, please. I won't be long." She didn't wait for a reply, just grabbed the basket and immediately left the cave.

"Melanie," David started to say as the woman disappeared, "please, Melanie, come back." His voice faded away as his head fell until his chin hit his chest. It was several minutes before he recovered enough to look up. Tears glittered in his eyes. He was afraid the woman was going to push herself until she collapsed. His gaze shifted to the fire and the pots and pans still resting there, then moved to the plate, stacked with food, resting at his side. After struggling to draw a deep breath, he reached for it; after working on carving pieces of meat for drying, he had a greater understanding of how much effort Melanie was putting into providing for them, for him. He carefully ate the food and relished every bite; he felt it was the least he could do. The meal was filling and satisfied him. He set the plate and utensils aside and watched the cave entrance, hoping the woman would appear soon.

"David," Melanie said softly as she gently touched his shoulder. She silently cursed herself for allowing him to work outside so long. He appeared stressed; his face was marred by creases that hadn't been there previously. "David," she whispered again before gathering the plate and silverware and washing them. She busied herself with straightening the pots and pans, preparing a pot of soup that would cook overnight. Almost an hour later, she returned to David's side. She whispered his name again before checking his shoulder. There was some swelling around the joint and when she shifted his arm slightly, she could feel a hitch deep within the joint and tension in the muscles of his shoulder, neck, and back. When she brushed her fingers over the man's clavicle and chest, she frowned at the heat she felt radiating from him. "I'm sorry. I allowed you to do to much." Spider shifted the man until he was laying flat before placing a pillow under his head. She gently petted over his hair, then placed a kiss on the side of his head. "Rest, David." She stood and left the cave with several stretched wolf furs.

"Melanie?" David woke and glanced around the cave. He was laying on his side and could swear he remembered sitting up before he fell asleep. It took several minutes, but he struggled until he leaned up on his elbow. It took even more effort to finally sit up and he looked around more closely. "Melanie?" He saw the plate was gone, things had been moved around at the fire, and numerous drying mats spread around the raised area and beyond. He looked toward the cave entrance as a gust of wind rushed in. "You're back." He smiled as the woman entered.

"David." The woman placed four empty frames against the wall. There were several furs draped over her arm. "How do you feel?" She moved to his side and settled cross-legged next to him. She could see signs of tension on his face and the set of his shoulders.

"A little tired." The singer glanced away and tried to shift his shoulders to relieve the tension there. "My shoulders feel stiff. I might have overdid things today."

"I'm sorry," Spider said quietly.

"Don't be. I needed to help. I needed to feel useful and I did feel useful today." He looked back at the woman and caught her eyes. "Please, don't be sorry, Melanie. Today, I felt alive." He smiled at her shock. "It felt good."

"Still, I shouldn't have worked you so hard." She shook her head and frowned. "May I work on your shoulder a little to take away some of the pain?"

"If you want. It doesn't hurt so much as it's stiff." He shifted his arm a little more. "Actually, it just feels like I had a hard workout session." He looked over the woman's face. She looked exhausted. "How late is it?"

"It's evening. The sun is down, but the moon hasn't risen, yet."

"How many trips did you make?" He was trying to figure out how to address the woman's apparent physical condition.

"Three. There are still more nuts out there. I could probably gather at least two dozen more baskets of them and it wouldn't get them all." She shook her head and smiled. "That soil must be extremely rich to support that much production."

"That bodes well for a garden, right?" The singer shifted slightly and sighed as the stiffness in his shoulder released with a slight pop. "Maybe we can talk about a garden until we go to sleep? You don't have to do anything else tonight."

"I think I've done everything I can tonight. It would be nice to work some more hides, but I prefer doing it outside because of the dust and odors." Her eyes had not stopped evaluating David's physical condition and she mentally decided that he wasn't injured and hadn't overworked his muscles; he did appear to only be stiff, not in pain. She looked up and his blue eyes caught hers, causing her breath to catch in her throat with the intensity of his gaze. "We did say that we wanted to discuss the garden." She stood quickly to gain some distance from his expression.

"Melanie." David's voice was gentle. "Are those wolf furs?"

"Ah," Spider's voice sounded a little confused, as if she'd forgotten she still held the furs, "yes, they are." She looked at David's face and swallowed hard. "Um, would you like to touch them?" She knelt again at his side and held one out to him. She couldn't take her eyes off his hands as they gently brushed over the thick fur. Her face felt flushed and she found the cave was becoming extremely warm.

"That's so soft."

The singer's voice cut into the woman's distracted thoughts. "I worked them until they were soft enough to be used for clothing. They are also extremely warm." She handed him the other three furs and smiled when he petted over them before bringing one to his face, rubbing the fur over his cheek. "I hope to make you a parka, so you don't get cold this winter."

David cuddled the furs against his chest and neck and smiled. "They are warm. If they were larger, we could use them as a blanket."

"I intend to finish the moose as a fur. It is large enough to use as a blanket." She ignored his comment about 'we'. She wondered if he intended for them to sleep together forever, and after the thought crossed her mind, she swallowed hard and realized the idea sent a rush of excitement through her, immediately followed by fear that bordered on terror.

"Are you all right, Melanie?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Spider said as she struggled to bring her thoughts under control. "I'll get a notebook and pencil and we can start discussing the garden." She turned away and tried to think of anything other than the man's elegant hands caressing the furs. ' _What is wrong with you, Spider! He's a man! Yes, he was hurt, badly hurt, but he's still a man._ ' The woman dug into her backpack, searching for one of her ever-present notebooks, all the while invisible shivers ran through her body and her mind continued berating her. She found what she was look for and turned back to the singer, realizing with a start that he was looking at her with concern and had settled the furs into his lap. "Found it."

On one level, David realized that the woman was bothered by something. He'd heard a strain in her voice and her gait was stiff as she walked away from him. When she turned back to him, there were worry lines on her face and she looked uncomfortable. He held one of the furs up and nodded toward it. "Do you think I could learn to make these? I know you showed me a little when you made the cover for the entrance, the door, hide," he offered with a lift to his voice. "I notice you have several more furs by the wall. If I help, they would be ready more quickly."

"You can learn. But, David, working hides and furs is very physically demanding. I would not recommend that level of effort this early in your recovery. Wait until your shoulder has fully healed. If your shoulder is stiff now, I hate to think how much pain you would be in after scraping and stretching hides." She saw the man was going to disagree, and she shook her head. "David, please, allow your body to finish healing."

The singer glanced away and chewed on his lower lip before returning his gaze to her face. "Okay. I just want to try to help. You're doing so much." He frowned and sighed. "Today was fun and it made me feel good. I like that feeling."

Spider knelt at the man's side and nodded. "I can understand that, David. Feeling useful and feeling good are rewarding in their own right." She shifted until she sat cross-legged next to him. "Relax. Let me prop you up against your pillows and cases." She reached to put her words into motion, but stopped and pulled back when he shook his head. "What is it, David?"

"Sit with me," he tried making his expression as non-threatening as possible, "maybe if I wrap my arm around your shoulders, it'll feel better. Just like it helped to hold you last night." The singer shifted and motioned with his right hand. "When we went to sleep last night, my shoulder was a little painful. This morning, when I woke up, it wasn't painful. It wasn't even stiff. I felt very relaxed." He paused a moment and gave her a cheeky grin. "Even though you hit me awake."

The woman blushed and looked back guiltily. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry, Melanie. I was trying to be funny." His grin disappeared. "But, it's true that my shoulder felt very good this morning."

The woman sighed and nodded. "Okay. Still, I'm sorry about hitting you." She shifted the cases and pillows around until they would support the singer completely. "Are you sure about this," she asked as she removed her boots.

"I'm sure." David help up his right arm and nodded for the woman to curl up against him. For a moment, he wondered how well it would work because she was significantly taller than he was. "What?" He was surprised when the woman tucked easily under his arm.

"What's wrong, David?"

"You're taller than I am," his voice faded away as he looked at the top of the woman's head. She was sitting flat on the pillows and blanket used as a bed and her legs were outstretched in front of her. "You're all legs," the singer observed. Her legs were at least eight or ten inches longer than his.

"I know. I have a runt of a body." She chuckled slightly at the man's shocked expression. She wiggled her toes. "All my height is in my legs. I've always wished I was more proportional. I have long legs and arms, huge feet, but a short torso and tiny hands." She held up her hands and waved her fingers, showing how short they were. "I'm always jealous of people who are nicely proportioned from head to toe."

"Wow." David didn't know what to say. He looked at her hands and wondered how she could fret a guitar. "If I were to guess how tall you were right now, I'd think barely five foot."

Spider laughed and smiled. "I know. I'm very tall until I sit down."

"No, you're still tall; you just hide it well." He laughed heartily at her surprised expression. As he curled his long arm around the woman's shoulders, he leaned toward her and rested his cheek against the side of her head. "Move a little closer to me. I promise I won't bite. If you're closer, it will take all the strain off my shoulder." The woman did as he asked and he pressed her head against his shoulder.

"David?"

"I promise. I won't bite." The singer rested his head on top of hers and felt himself relax. "That does help my shoulder. You're warm, like a heating pad." He chuckled slightly and smiled against her hair. "Where should we start in discussing the garden?"

"Ah," Spider startled, she'd forgotten about why she was snuggled against the singer. "Well, how about we figure out what types of vegetables and fruits we want to plant."

"Sounds like a beautiful beginning." He felt the woman shift and tilt her head in apparent confusion before shrugging slightly.

"We need to think about what we like to eat as well as what seeds I have available." She opened the notebook and clicked the pen. "Favorite foods, what types of items can be used as a foundation for meals or for flavoring, as well as things that are just valuable for their nutritive value will all be important things to look at."

"Favorite food is easy, Shepherd's Pie."

"You're joking, right?" Spider turned to look at the man's face. Every inch of the man was lean almost to the point of being too thin. She realized with a start that he had starting putting on a little weight and wasn't so waif-like, or anorexic, in appearance as he had been when they'd boarded that ill-fated flight just over a week ago.

"I'm not. What, you thought I've always lived off cocaine, peppers, and milk?" He was a little offended by the idea.

"No, not at all. I think that diet came about because those around you didn't want you to starve to death. Even so, you were far too thin. I just, well," she paused and tried to think of a way of phrasing her thoughts that wouldn't sound offensive, "David, Shepherd's Pie is just so, well, normal." She realized when the man scoffed and snorted slightly at the comment that maybe, just maybe, she'd failed in not offending. "I mean, Shepherd's Pie is common." She tucked her head slightly; she was digging an even deeper hole.

"I guess it is normal and common, but it's so delicious. It can be made so many different ways and it never gets boring."

"There is that. Using different vegetables would keep the flavor interesting." She shifted slightly before putting pen to paper. "So carrots, onions, celery, beans, maybe squash?"

"Definitely, turnips and parsnips are good in it. This one restaurant I went to in London always put cabbage, Brussels Sprouts, and celery root in theirs along with bunches of garlic."

"I don't have seeds for Brussels Sprouts or celery root. The rest, I have seeds for. But, all Shepherd's Pie has mashed potatoes on top. Potatoes are grown from starts, not from seeds. Regardless if they're white, golden, red, sweet potatoes or yams."

"Is it possible there are potatoes on the island?" David was disappointed. "Could something be substituted for them?"

"Maybe and maybe." Spider sighed softly and thought about what she'd already found growing on the island. Potatoes were grown almost everywhere, but would they have been seen as important enough to include in this planned environment. "I'll keep my eyes open for potatoes. Maybe parsnips could be used in place of them, or even cattail roots if they're extremely soft and then crushed would work. What types of herbs and spices do you like in your Shepherd's Pie?"

"Thyme, basil, oregano, garlic, I don't know, almost any flavoring could work, right?"

"Yes. I just didn't know if you have a favorite or favorites."

"Salt and pepper, I guess."

"I can't grow pepper here unless it's inside. It requires a long growing season and higher temperatures. If I can fashion pots, I'll try putting some seeds in." She glanced toward the singer's face: his eyes were closed and his expression was relaxed and peaceful. ' _Oh, he needs a shave. A shaggy beard looks bad on all men, but it really looks horrible on him,_ ' she thought. "Referring back to your crazy diet from the 70's, do you actually like peppers? Or were they forced on you?"

Blue eyes glanced open. He studied the woman's face for a minute, wondering what she was thinking, before focusing on her words. "I don't mind peppers. They are good as flavoring or when stuffed." He could tell she wasn't trying to be rude with the questions. "Do you like peppers?"

"I love hot peppers. Spicy little demon peppers are awesome!" She giggled at his surprised expression. "Hot peppers have medicinal value for the circulatory and digestive systems and they're used in several traditional medicine systems for balancing various functions in the body. They're loaded with vitamins and minerals as well." She shifted a little more and smiled. "Regular peppers, they have benefits, too, but I don't think they're as fun to eat."

"You're very," he paused and looked into mischievous gray eyes, "interesting." He'd been ready to say strange or unusual, but censored himself.

"Most people think I'm strange."

David laughed gently. "I was thinking strange, but thought it would be rude. Thing is, strange is interesting and fun."

"Yup! Normal is highly overrated." The pair shared a laugh.

"Thing is, I like hot peppers, too." He leaned against the woman's head, the words whispered against her hair.

"So, peppers get added." She followed through.

"Why don't you list the types of seeds you have?" David's eyes were starting to fall closed by their own volition. His body was suddenly very tired. "It might be easier than just throwing out recipes." He straightened slightly. "Although, my favorite breakfast is oatmeal with berries and almonds."

"I'm going to try amaranth tomorrow. I'll add some almonds and honey to it. Maybe it'll make a good substitute." She could hear the man's heartbeat and feel his breathing. His heartbeat was slowing and breath deepening and she suspected he was tired. He'd worked hard today and deserved some rest.

"Yum, honey!" The singer wiggled slightly in excitement. "Everything tastes good with honey."

"Okay, some things are automatic like, greens, radishes, peas, and spinach."

"Why automatic?"

"They grow fast and are somewhat cold resistant. Greens like spinach, lettuce, cabbage, kale, etc will give us fresh food and nutrients early in the season. Radishes are good raw or cooked. Peas are easy to dry in the sun so we have them year round."

David nodded as she explained. "Peas are tasty, too."

"There is that. Beans," she tapped at where it was listed in the notebook, "can be either dried or used fresh in the pod." She felt, rather than heard, the singer's agreement. "They're versatile, eaten alone or in something. Once we have a ground oven, we can always make casseroles. They're easy and virtually anything laying around can be thrown into them, but if beans are a foundation of one, it will boost the protein and flavor." She closed her eyes a moment and thought about what other seeds she had. "Cauliflower, broccoli, asparagus."

David broke in. "Those can also be thrown into Shepherd's Pie."

The woman chuckled at the eager tone in his voice. "You really like Shepherd's Pie. Cucumber, rhubarb, Swiss Chard, leeks, artichokes, corn, pumpkin, gourds, melons, watermelon?" She waited a minute before pulling away slightly and looking at the man's face. "Well?"

"Well what," he asked as his eyes opened.

"What do you think of them?"

"I think they all sound delectable." He licked his lips suggestively before he thought about the action.

"We're going to need a very large garden." The cave was feeling warm again. Spider heard the man's heartbeat speed up slightly and his arm tightened around her. "How about beets? If have seeds for golden ones as well as several varieties of red ones. They are nutritious, but I don't really like them."

"I don't care for them. My mother used to force me to eat them."

"Then we can skip planting beets. I trade for the seeds because I have a friend who loves them and he always has rare varieties of corn to exchange."

"Corn," he mumbled softly, pausing as he assembled his thoughts, "you mentioned corn. Would that be ears of corn or the type used for cornbread."

"I have both. Sweet corn can be dried and used for cornmeal, but it's usually too sweet for my tastes. Dent corn is grown specifically for use as meal or flour. It has lower sugar and water content so it resists spoiling better." She searched her memory for other seeds she had with her. "I do have several seeds for berries: strawberries, orange berry, blauberren, and huckleberry. I've never grown wonder berries or solanum fruits, but have seeds for those as well. This was the first time I've traded for either of those."

"So we can have strawberries, fresh strawberries?"

"We can. They'll be tiny alpine strawberries, but they taste sweet."

"You already found blueberries. Were there other berries bushes around?" He found that his mind was starting to wander and not all of it was from being tired. The woman felt warm in his arms and as she moved so slightly with each breath, he was becoming increasingly distracted. He wrenched his thoughts back when he tightened his arm around her and frowned as her pronounced bones poked him.

"There were a lot of standing canes. But, until they begin to set fruit, I won't know what type or types of berries they are." She frowned. She'd felt the change in the man's touch, as well as the sudden intake of breath when his arm shifted. She closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall forward. ' _I'm dreaming if he'd have physical interest in an overweight, plain nobody._ ' She ignored the fact that a physical relationship, or any type of relationship, was an unheard of situation to her.

"Melanie?" David brushed his long fingers through the woman's hair and was shocked at the amount of hair that fell out. He thought he'd been gentle, but perhaps he'd been rougher than he realized. He repeated the action, even more tentatively and when the same thing happened, he knew it wasn't because he'd been too rough. "Are you tired?" He lifted the woman's head and brushed a single finger along her jawline. "We need to rest."

"We do." Spider jerked slightly. "I just remembered. I traded for some grains this time." She ran her fingers through her hair roughly as she sat up. "Which ones," she mumbled several times.

"This can wait until tomorrow."

"No, I need to remember." Her eyes fell closed and she rubbed over her face. "Sorghum, and oats!" She turned toward David and touched him gently along the ribs. "I traded for oats. I can make you oatmeal even if I don't find oats growing wild on the island." She looked excited even as she swayed slightly from her sudden movement.

"Melanie." David gathered the woman into his arms and held her against his body. "Please, rest. You won't be planting anything tomorrow. We should sleep now."

"I know. We should." Spider pulled away and kept her gaze averted. "Tomorrow, we can work on a garden layout." She shook her head. "It'll have to wait though. I need to gather more nuts and try hunting a little more. If I can find a wild pig or boar, I might try my hand at building a smoker. If not, a moose or elk, deer, something large, would help alleviate my nervousness."

"You're trying to do too much, Melanie." David's words fell on deaf ears as the woman moved the notebook and pen behind them and started rearranging the cases and pillows so they could lay down. He sighed as the woman turned away. "Melanie," he said slightly louder. When she jerk around to look at him, he held up his arms and nodded. "Come, let me hold you."

"In a few minutes." She quickly moved among the fire, waterfall, raised area, and even the cave entrance, returning a few minutes later. "The temperature is dropping," she commented upon reentering the cave. Her gaze stopped when her eyes fell on the finished wolf furs. "I need to finish more furs tomorrow."

"Please, Melanie." David motioned for her to join him. "Keep me warm."

"I will." She walked to his side and collected the furs, pausing to look at the flat, little pillow he normally slept with and frowned. "This will help keep you warm." She wrapped one fur around the pillow before arranging the others on a case in the raised area. With a final glance around the cave to double check that everything was to her liking, she forced David to lay down and settled in front of him. She was asleep before his right arm had wrapped around her shoulders and he cuddled against her back.

David pressed his body against the woman. He tugged the blanket until it covered them completely. The cave was warm, but the woman was even warmer. "We need baths," he whispered softly as he became aware of a slightly sour odor. A short time later, he drifted off to sleep, worry colored his dreams and broke into his rest. Several times during the night, he woke, gasping for breath as he tried remembering what had disturbed him. He did realize that the woman never moved all night, her shallow breathing the only obvious sign she was only sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the people who is reading this story in real life has been grumbling about "how slowly the story is progressing" and "how much effort I'm putting into describing everything". She keeps asking for me to jump ahead in the story so "we get to the real action". I take pride in providing enough detail in my writing that the reader can place him or herself in the story. Seeing the environment in the mind's eye allows one to vicariously experience the events, in my opinion, but she made me think about my writing and about her view of the speed the story is progressing.
> 
> So, in honor of her grumbling, here's a sneak preview of some "real action" that will allow you to see where the story is/might be going.
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> "David," Spider whispered as she moved away from the sleeping singer. She sat on the edge of the sleeping platform and brushed her fingers over his forehead, barely disturbing the fringes of his shaggy bangs. "Sleep well, just a little longer." She stood and after taking care of her morning routine, changed clothes, pulling on a heavy sweater before leaving the cave.
> 
> Almost an hour later, the woman stood near the fire, smiling at all the little changes she'd made. Yesterday, the singer had made comments about Christmas Eve and how he missed having the chance to celebrate the season with his son. She couldn't provide access to his son, but she could give him a change to enjoy Christmas. He'd mentioned his mother always fixed Shepherd's Pie made with lamb or beef as the meat on Christmas Eve. Since she'd discovered the little wild potatoes growing near the lee side of the mountain where their cave was, she'd made a special effort to gather them. Wild cabbage, cattail root, chunks of potato, a few tough stalks of wild-growing vegetables were poor substitutes for the tender vegetables he'd eaten growing up, but would hopefully remind him of those times. A thick Shepherd's Pie made with dried elk and moose was roasting in the ground oven.
> 
> She'd killed four partridges earlier and they would form the foundation of Christmas Dinner in place of the traditional turkey. Potatoes would be roasted and she had a loaf of slightly stale bread she was going to turn into stuffing. With the freshly ground amaranth flour she was going to attempt to make gravy as well as Yorkshire Pudding, although she lacked the important eggs used in the recipe. A final look around the cooking area, David had dubbed "the kitchen" set her mind at ease that everything she could do ahead of time was done.
> 
> Spider looked toward the sleeping area and saw the singer was still sleeping, his hair rumpled and in disarray. She smiled and chuckled softly; he looked like a school boy getting the chance to play hooky from classes. After taking a deep sigh, the woman left the cave and watched as the sun turned the ocean from a gentle, glittery orange-yellow to a flash of brilliant pink, then to a shimmering silver-yellow that finished as molten gold. In the field below, deer were digging into the snow searching for grass. An elk was visible at the edge of the forest where it was tearing away the bark of an elm tree. There were fresh tracks from rabbits, foxes, and other small mammals. As she watched, numerous rabbits hopped about. She decided to use the opportunity to pad their available food supply and grabbed her sling and stones. Twenty minutes later, she was in possession of seven large rabbits, tied together by their hind legs.
> 
> The woman reentered the cave and smiled as her name was called.
> 
> "Melanie," David said as wind gusted into the cave. He was seated on the edge of the sleeping platform, he smiled as the woman appeared.
> 
> "Good morning, David." Melanie dropped the rabbits in the kitchen area and washed her hands before going to the man's side. "Come on," she prompted as she helped him rise and go to the curtained off area where the toilet was kept. After he finished, she helped him approach the low table, settling him at it's edge. Porridge made from amaranth, honey, assorted nuts, and a few tiny blueberries was set in front of him.
> 
> "Delicious," David said as he almost inhaled his breakfast. Spider smiled as the man licked the spoon until it was completely clean and bare. Only then did he really glance around the cave. "Something else smells delicious." He sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed other things: a tree, decorations, even a couple items wrapped and set in front of the tree. "Melanie." He looked at the woman kneeling next to him. "A Christmas Tree?"
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "Thank you," David said softly as he reached for her. "You did this for me?"
> 
> "I feel bad that you can't celebrate with your son. I wanted it to still be special."
> 
> "It is special." He pulled her toward him and gently nuzzled her jaw before pressing their lips together in a kiss.
> 
> ~~~~~


	11. December 10, 1987 - The Problem with Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is healing, but his strengthening body presents some unexpected problems. The pair discover an unusual means of communication that strengthens their awareness of each other. Nuts, elk, and deer are normal eating, but what's with fishing for rocks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~
> 
> These chapter rewrites ended up being significantly more mentally demanding than I had expected. I knew the original drafts of Spider's decline had been far short of the reality of my own on which it is based. When I read my diary entries and actual medical reports from that time, the story demanded to be edited to better reflect what actually happened. What I didn't expect was in making it more realistic that it would also bring up the emotions and stresses I'd experienced before. Several times I debated about skipping the rewrite, but kept feeling that I would be denying the reader the full experience of the character's decline. Because of that feeling, I've kept plugging away at the rewrites and have almost completed them. This is the first in a series of chapters I'll be posting nightly (real life permitting) until the rewritten section is fully posted. After that, things should move significantly more rapidly since I'll only have basic editing of each chapter.

~~~~~

December 10, 1987

"Melanie," David's voice held a hint of panic as he woke fully and realized the woman wasn't held in his arms. He struggled to sit up, searching for any sign of where Spider could be. "Melanie," he called out loudly; the cave painting's spell was wearing off and he no longer felt the need to whisper or speak under his breath.

"David?" Spider appeared from the cave's entrance, her eyes were wide open and she was breathing hard. "I'm here." She rushed to the singer's side and knelt next to him. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you're going to be all right." She brushed her fingers through his hair.

"You were gone." He felt a little foolish now. The woman was almost always gone in the morning when he woke up, at least until the last couple of mornings. "I thought something was wrong."

"I was just outside. The meat has already dried and I'm placing it in a cargo container." She looked at the man's face, trying to figure out the real reason he was in such a panic. "Your help yesterday really placed us in a better position for the winter. Thank you."

"I don't know why you're thanking me. I didn't do much."

"You did so much more than you realize, David." She could see he didn't believe her and she didn't understand why he was so reticent to accept her praise. While she thought about his behavior, which seemed in such contrast to how people described him, they dealt with his morning routine and she had to smile at his successful efforts to help. The amount he'd already healed was evident in his every movement. He just needed to regain his strength. After settling next to him again, she realized she still hadn't figured out why he was so panicked. "Are you feeling a little better? Did you have a nightmare right before waking?"

David shook his head and swallowed hard. When the woman waited patiently in silence for an explanation, he knew he would have to try explaining his behavior. He cleared his throat and sighed before glancing away. "I am feeling a little better. I don't think I had a nightmare. I don't normally remember my dreams." He shook his head again. "I have no idea why I acted the way I did." A strange, confused expression raced across his face as he remembered something that had happened in the 70's. He's been doing drugs at some party he'd been dragged off to and had passed out in a small office because of a near overdose. His brain offered that it wasn't a near anything; it had been far into overdose territory. He'd regained consciousness almost twenty hours later and discovered the person he'd arrived with had left without him and the people who owned the house were dead on the floor of the living room. He realized with a start, the odor he'd noticed the night before was very similar to those dead bodies.

"What is it, David?" Spider had noticed the singer had thought of something, either from his past or the night before, or possibly both.

Crystal blue eyes glanced up and focused on the woman's face. He wasn't sure how to address what he'd noticed when they went to bed. The woman might think he was very strange for sniffing her enough that he could tell when her scent had changed. "Just something I thought last night. We should try to stay clean. Maybe we could have a sponge bath? We smelled a little when we went to bed."

"You're sure you're not a mind reader, David?" Spider chuckled and shook her head. "I was just thinking I'd draw up a bath after I gather nuts and cattails."

"I've been accused of it, but no, I'm not a mind reader." He had to smile because he remembered some of the comments he'd heard over the years concerning him: man from the future, alien, possessed, one woman even accused him of being a god another a demon, on the same night.

"Maybe this summer we can build a bathing tub. Not like a traditional western tub, more like what would be common in Japan." She knew he had a deep love of Japan and Japanese culture.

"That would be very nice," he said with a smile. "I used to enjoy the baths and hot springs when I spent time in Japan. It was relaxing and I always felt so clean afterward." He looked over the woman, now that he knew the reason for his earlier panic, he wanted to see if the parallel he had drawn was still accurate.

"I wish there was a hot spring on this island. That would make it even more perfect." She watched his face and chest. He appeared calmer, but more observant. "In the meantime, I should bring in the jerky and get it stored away. The day looks beautiful and I hope it will stay nice."

"What else do you plan on doing today?" David leaned toward the woman.

"Like I said earlier, I'd like to gather more nuts and cattails. I'm also going to see what else might be in those storage sheds that we can use. I already worked on the toilet. It would be nice to finish it today."

"So, we'll have a real toilet soon?" David gave her a cheeky smile, causing Spider to chuckle.

"Yes, if I can finish smoothing the seat opening, we could try it out tonight." She laughed aloud at the man's happy expression. "I'd also like to take you outside for part of the day. It's quite warm and the sun feels wonderful. Let me get you some breakfast, then I'll take you outside. You can rest in the sun while I accomplish something." She stood immediately, not waiting for an answer, and returned a few minutes later with a bowl of porridge. "Let me know what you think of it," she prompted as she knelt next to the man and spooned up the first bite of the meal."

David leaned forward slightly and took the mouthful of porridge, chewing it slowly and testing the various flavors. After swallowing the bite, he smiled as he savored the aftertaste. "That's delicious. I didn't think anything could taste better than oatmeal, but that's wonderful. I taste honey." He paused a moment as he thought about the individual flavors. "There are nuts," the woman nodded, "almonds, walnuts, and something I don't know what it is."

"Hazelnuts."

"Really? I don't think I've ever had them. That really is delicious." He smiled widely. "How much honey did you use? Will we have enough to last the winter?"

"I only used a spoonful. I hope we have enough honey, but I keep my eyes open for signs showing where additional honey can be found. And, we won't get more honey until late summer at the earliest. It takes bees time to manufacture more after things start blooming." She giggled a little when he looked disappointed at that news. She was beginning to adore his "school boy" expression. It was so hard to believe that he was actually forty years old because sometimes his behavior made him appear so much younger and he certainly didn't look his age.

"It'll be something to look forward to if we run out."

"That's true." Spider slowly fed the porridge to the man, going for a cup of water and one of pine tea. It was surprising that he savored the food for almost forty minutes, unlike his normal meals where he inhaled his food. She washed the bowl, cup, and utensils before returning to the man's side. "Ready to greet the day?"

"Yes!" David held out his right arm to place it around the woman's neck, leaning toward her and drawing a deep breath. He was surprised when he didn't notice the smell from the night before, but she was wearing a different shirt. " _Maybe that's why,_ " he thought. His breath caught in his throat when the woman struggled to lift him. He felt more than heard Spider groan as she took his weight into her arms. "Melanie," he whispered when she paused, "you can put me down." He reached with his left hand and arm as well when she continued lifting him until she stood tall. "Melanie?"

"It's okay, David. You're safe. I'm not going to drop you." She was slightly out of breath, but her arms were solid as she cradled the man in them.

"Melanie, you don't have to do this."

"Please, David, I'm just excited that you're gaining a little weight. You needed to. You were way too skinny." She turned her head enough that he could see her smile. "Just relax." She moved to the entrance, quickly exiting onto the ledge. She smiled even more when he gasped at the sight of the sun soaked ground around their home. She paused and nodded toward the ocean. "Look out there."

"Oh wow! It looks like glass!" David pulled himself up a little against the woman's neck. "I wish I had my camera or my art studio." She allowed him to look for a little longer before turning to place him in the wood shed. "What," he said with surprise when he wasn't placed on the ground, instead he was settled on something that felt a lot like a lounger.

"I thought this would be a little more comfortable," Spider said softly as she arranged the man's legs into a more natural position. "You should be able to move around a little."

"Wow, how did you make this?" He looked around and realized that because he wasn't laying completely flat, he could easily prop up on his elbow and look around. Even better, because he was higher, he could see more when he looked around.

"I didn't, you're laying on the wood pile." Spider chuckled at his pleased expression. "I gathered more wood this morning and filled in the space you normally laid. I realized if I added a mat and several blankets it was perfect to recline on.

"It's comfortable." David snuggled down into the blankets and was surprised wood logs could feel so comfortable. "That wind still holds a hint of chill."

"It does." The woman smiled. "I'll get you a blanket." She went to the cave and returned with a pair of them. She gently covered the man, making certain that he could shift the blankets if he became warm. "I'll head to the sheds first. I hope to find something I can use to cover the ground oven once it's dug." She spoke as she gathered the rest of the dried meat, arranging it in a cargo container for temporary storage. "After I gather more nuts, I'm going to get some additional birch bark for storage boxes. They aren't as air tight and should allow more air circulation around the jerky. Air movement usually helps prevent molding as long as the air isn't humid."

"Melanie, you mentioned hunting last night."

"If I come across a meat source, I'll kill it and bring it back, but hunting is not my prime intention today. If something wants to jump in the stew pot though, I am not going to discourage it," she said with a cheeky grin.

"That would make our lives much easier if the animals volunteered." David chuckled.

"Yes, it would." Spider disappeared into the cave with the full cargo container. She came back with another container and quickly filled it as well. "All this meat makes me feel a lot better." She smiled at the singer as she held up the second container.

"Do you think it's enough?"

"Maybe. I'd rather have too much than too little. But, it's a definite improvement." She took the case into the cave and returned with the gathering basket as well as her various weapons. "I'll leave you water and a snack cake," she added with a smile as she settled the bottles of water next to him along with the chocolate iced cake after she opened the wrapping. "I won't be long. Try to rest and relax while I'm gone. You did a lot yesterday."

"Okay," David said as the woman stood and move to the travois. "Good luck, hopefully several animals will volunteer for the stew pot."

"Hopefully." The woman left the ledge and the next time he saw her, she was in the wide-open acreage where rabbits were playing.

David looked around and was amazed at how much life was visible. He struggled to turn enough to see the ocean and got his legs a little too near the edge of the wood pile, causing them to fall. After gasping at the sudden shift in body position, he realized his legs didn't actually hurt. He pushed himself until he was sitting normally, his legs hanging over the wood pile and his back upright. The strain of the position was quickly felt, but he was excited to look around without requiring support. He watched the ocean, the glassy water barely moved. Several minutes later, he realized a silvery wake spreading over the surface of the water and he tried looking more closely to discover what was causing it. "It's a whale," he said, awe in his voice. He watched as the whale played in the water, coming to the surface and diving to throw its tail into the air. The time passed quickly, but he was unaware of it; he took immense pleasure in the actions of the ocean creature.

Eventually, the whale dove and the silver wake faded away while David almost held his breath waiting for it to reappear. When it didn't come back for several minutes, he realized it had gone. The next thing he noticed was the strain he felt because of sitting up, unaided. He rubbed his right hand along each of his thighs, grimacing as they started to hurt. With one last look toward the ocean, he grabbed his left leg at the knee and dragged it up to rest on the wood lounge. It took him several deep breaths to push his pain away before he repeated the process with his right leg. Almost ten minutes passed before he felt confident enough to try moving. He regulated his breathing and tried using it as a meditative focus in an effort to push the stabbing pain away. "Too early to do that," he whispered to himself. He shifted slightly and laid back on the wood pile, allowing his upper body to relax.

"David?" Melanie was worried about what the singer had been doing. His face was drawn and he wasn't responding to her voice or touch. He appeared to be in serious pain based on his short, panting breaths. "Come on, David. Wake up, please?" She applied deeper pressure on his shoulder, finally eliciting a reaction where he pulled away. "David," her voice was gentle and she brushed her fingers through his hair.

"Melanie?" His blue eyes opened and looked at her. Pain was evident in his vocal tone and expression as he clenched his eyes shut and arched his back. "I moved the wrong way."

"What happened, David?" Spider started an head to toe inspection of him. When she reached his ribs, she could feel slight shifts of several of the fractures, the muscles of his abdomen were hard and extremely sensitive, and his knees made grinding sounds when she moved them. At his feet, she glanced back toward his face, searching for an answer.

"I tried turning around to watch the ocean and my legs slipped over the edge."

"You stood up? Or your legs only hung over the edge." She was deeply worried if he'd damaged or broken the barely knitted bones again.

"They only hung. My hips hurt when they fell, so I sat up. At first it felt pretty good. My legs didn't hurt at all and my hips stopped hurting once I was seated. I watched the ocean," he smiled widely, "you should have seen the whale that was out there. It was amazing to watch, swimming around like it was playing. It would surface quickly, then dive before slapping its tail. But after a while, my back started to hurt and my thighs felt as if they were cramping."

"They could have been. Your lower legs would have been pulling on your knees, thighs, and hips, even though they aren't that heavy. The stress of the position would also cause pressure in your back, abdomen, and shoulders. You've been laying down with your legs stretched straight most of our time here. Your muscles and joints aren't used to it." She sat next to his torso. "You said your back started hurting. I'm going to pull you into a sitting position and check your back." David nodded. Spider was as gentle as she could be as she put her words into action, resting him against her body so he was fully supported and not placing undo stress on his body. Her fingers gently explored the man's back, noting immediately the cramped muscles in his upper back and how sensitive his lower back was. "David," she said softly, "when your legs fell over the edge did you feel a strain in your back?"

The singer relaxed against the woman, appreciating her warmth. He hadn't realized at the time, but when he'd sat up, his blankets had fallen to the ground. "I'm not sure. I think I was more focused on any pain in my legs." He tried pulling away so he could sit on his own. "What," he asked when she prevented his movement.

"David, I didn't say anything until now because I didn't want to worry you. You had so much bruising to your entire torso, front and back, it's possible that you have damage to your back, specifically your spine. It's not something I can palpate or see." She wrapped the blankets around his back and continued gently rubbing him so he could warm up.

"That feels good," David whispered as his upper back relaxed. He shivered as he realized how cold he'd become. "Melanie, do you think I hurt myself?" He felt her shake her head and relief flooded through him.

"If you still have the ability to move and full sensation in your limbs, I don't think any injury is too extensive." She smiled when the man purposefully moved his arms and wiggled his toes. "But, David, just because something isn't extensive doesn't mean it isn't serious."

"My back is feeling better." He sighed softly and relaxed a little more. "Maybe it was just cold."

"Maybe. I'm going to take you inside the cave for the rest of the day. You've had enough excitement."

"How long were you gone?"

"Almost an hour."

"Did you have any luck?" David frowned when the woman didn't answer immediately. "Melanie?"

"I did have luck." She felt his relieved sigh at her answer and realized this was not the best time to play coy, especially when it came to preparing for winter. "Two elk volunteered for the stew pot."

"So, more meat to carve up."

"For me to carve up. You need to concentrate on healing." When he started to say something, she huffed at him. "No, David, you did a lot yesterday and today. Now, you need to rest and relax." She brushed over the back of his head in a comforting gesture. "I also brought back two pieces of plywood. I'm going to cut one piece down to make a covers for the ground oven and the toilet."

"Those could be useful," David said with a chuckle.

"I'm sure we'll find plenty of uses for the remains in the future. The other piece of plywood, I'm going to make into a sleeping platform. I brought back a 4 x 4 to cut to length for legs."

"Won't it be uncomfortable to sleep on?"

"It would if we tried sleeping directly on the board. Although, I'm not sure how much more uncomfortable it would be when contrasted to the cave floor. I'm going to cut some straw and once wrapped in a blanket or leather it will act like a mattress. If it develops an odor or flattens too much, we can change it out with fresh." She brushed over the man's head again. "Once you're able to stand and walk, it'll make rising from bed easier, especially until your legs have completely healed."

"And, if you have to lift me, it'll be easier, too?" He thought about her difficulty rising with him that morning.

"There is that for now. But, your first step to walking again will be standing. It's easier to rise from a seated position than directly from the ground. It'll also minimize the chance of placing too much stress on your knees."

"Anything else?"

"I found several things that could be useful in the future, but didn't bring them back for now. I brought back a basket of cattail roots. I'll let them dry before placing them in storage. There is a lot more to sift through over there, but that'll be a job for another day. Maybe once you're on your feet, you can help me."

"I'd like that," David said softly. He was having doubts about his ability to move around without pain after what had happened that morning. "Do I have to go inside?" He remembered when he first looked out over the area, he could see the area where the nut trees were. He thought maybe he could keep an eye on the woman as she gathered nuts and bark.

"You don't have to, David. It was a recommendation, not an order." She settled him back against the wood pile and covered him again with the blankets. "I'm going to unload the travois."

David watched as the woman wrestled with the two elk until they were in the protected alcove of the drying tunnel. She carried the plywood over and braced it against the shed he was in, adding several long, square posts as well as several other boards. Originally, she'd rolled several bundles off and left them sitting on the ground; as she picked up the first one, he called out to her. "What are those," he asked when she turned her attention to him.

"Cattail leaves, stalks, reeds, and dowel rods," she answered as she pointed to the various bundles.

"Could I learn to weave?" He really did want to help.

"Perhaps." Spider frowned as she thought about what he'd experienced earlier. "We need to make certain that your back isn't overly stressed. Still, I don't see a reason you couldn't learn the basics and eventually build up to large projects."

"I'd like that." The singer's smile lit up the ledge.

"I'll get these inside." Spider put her words into action, carrying a pair of bundles with each trip and returning quickly. She was later returning on her last trip and David started to worry that something had happened, but she came out with a smile on her face and the empty gathering basket. "Are you sure you want to stay out here?"

"I'm certain," David answered immediately. "I might be able to wave to you."

"There is that. If you need me," she paused in her words. "I have an idea." She didn't wait for a response, dropped the basket, and reentered the cave. Several minutes later, the woman reappeared, chuckling. "Never thought I'd actually find a use for this." She held up a silver, metal whistle. "If you need me, just give it a blast. It won't be hard on your lungs, either." She scratched her chin and grimaced slightly. "Your ears, well, let's just say they won't be happy. Although you won't have to be too loud. Sound travels when there are no other sounds to compete with."

"That's true." David took the whistle and smiled at it. He put it to his lips, blew a sharp blast of air through it, and was rewarded by a sharp, shrill sound that echoed back from the metal sheeting, the mountain, and even the rock face opposite their ledges. "Wow, it really does carry."

"Yes." Spider resisted the urge to shake her head at his childish grin. She realized she should have known he wouldn't be able to resist trying out his new toy. "If I hear it, I'll come running." She placed the lanyard around his neck so he wouldn't lose it and it would be easily accessible if he needed or wanted her.

"How long will you be gone?"

"It takes about thirty to forty minutes to fill the basket. I wonder if I could take a bunch cargo containers. If I fill several of them, it would mean less trips." She glanced at the travois and attempted to mentally picture how she could secure the cases.

David looked at the transport "sled" and wondered if it could be done.

"I've got it." The woman disappeared into the cave and didn't returned for close to ten minutes, but when she did come back out, she had several lengths of cloth rope and a pair of the containers. She quickly rigged the rope through the handles on the containers and secured them. "I can probably add three more containers on this side and five next to them."

"Where did you get the rope?"

"I tore up several articles of clothing that would never fit us. They were several sizes too small. You'd have to return to your weight of the 70's during the height of your drug use to wear the largest. They were children's clothes. I bound the lengths together using Mobius Knots." She smiled at the man before going inside, returning with four containers. A second trip she returned with four more.

"That's a great idea." David watched as the woman disconnected the first rope and added the other three containers to the row before reattaching it to the top brace. The five remaining cases made another row and were quickly bound into place. "You're going to be able to bring back a lot of nuts."

"Yes, and something similar can be used to gather other items. These would have been great when I was harvesting the amaranth. It would have meant far less trips. I found another huge area of cattails near the area where the sheds are. This island is thick with them, so digging up a lot of roots and harvesting leaves and stalks will not even make a dent in next year's growth."

"That's good. Still, could we plant cattails? That way we'd have even more."

"Why would you want to do that? They grow wild in very high numbers. Us planting them would just be extra work," Spider paused and nibbled on her lower lip. "Actually, I don't have the first idea how to plant them. I've never thought about it. They just grow."

"Do they produce seeds?"

"Yes. They produce a brown seed head that gets covered with a fine, yellow pollen, then the seeds develop from that. The seed head is covered with fluff. I have been gathering some of the fluff as well. It has several uses." She turned away.

"What types of uses?"

Spider thought, ' _I should have known he'd ask. He's so curious._ ' She turned back to him. "It's absorbent, so could be used for wound care. Historically, it's been used as diapering material for babies or individuals confined to bed for long periods of time." His expectant look showed he was waiting for other uses. "It can be used for a woman's time of the month, as well," she added quickly.

"It could be very useful and important then if we're here for years, not months," David said softly. He realized she was embarrassed, but he couldn't understand why. The woman had shown no embarrassment when caring for his personal needs. "You're embarrassed. Why?"

"Maybe it's different in England, but in America girls are taught to be embarrassed by their normal bodily processes. It's something to be hidden and not spoken about." She shrugged. "I never was able to get beyond that programming. Although, when in a medical setting, it didn't seem to make me as uncomfortable."

"It is different in England. It's not flaunted, but I've never noticed anyone being embarrassed. It's a normal part of being a woman. In health class, the teacher said it was a sign that the woman was healthy and would be a good mate, producing numerous, healthy children." He shrugged. "It was not a big deal." The singer tired to suppress a chuckle. "I often wondered how to broach the subject with a prospective date, hey do you have regular periods? Cramps? How heavy are they? I think some women might slap you if you explain that you're attempting to determine if she's healthy based on her period." He laughed loudly at the woman's horrified expression and realized perhaps he'd said too much. "Can it be used for other things?"

"I know it can be used for starting a fire as it lights easily with a spark; I've been using it that way when rejuvenating the fire from coals in the mornings. Also, I've heard of it being used in the same ways goose down is, in pillows or comforters. It would retain heat, just as any fluffy substance does."

"That would be nice. Those partridges don't have that many feathers on each of them. It'll take years to save up enough for a pillow, let alone more than one or a comforter."

"Their feathers will become thicker as winter progresses and the temperatures fall and stay there." She nodded sadly. "I'm hoping maybe ducks or geese will migrate here during the summer. They are larger so have more feathers. But, you're right, it will still take a long time to save them up. That why I'm going to process as many furs and hides as I can. They are immediately available and if necessary, smaller furs can be sewn together to make a larger blanket or covering."

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you." He realized Spider's deep red blush was finally starting to fade and the set of her shoulders was more relaxed.

"You didn't. I curse the fools who seem Hell-bent on destroying a girl's self-worth. I've seen girls and young women who were so embarrassed to purchase sanitary products that they'd pay someone else to get them or would wait until the store was almost empty to buy them. Some would wait until a check-out line was empty, run up, pay as quickly as possible, then flee the store. I will admit that I've never heard it described as a sign of good health or a determining factor of being a good mate. Although, if you don't have proper hormonal function, which menstruation is a sign of, you typically cannot have children, healthy or otherwise."

"So, there is some truth there." David was glad to see the woman relax and she didn't appear embarrassed anymore, although he realized that she was speaking in more clinical terms and appeared to be distancing herself from the subject.

"Well, I need to get moving otherwise I won't make it back before evening. I'm going to gather the nuts and birch bark at the same time. Use the whistle if you need me. Before I leave, would you like something to eat?"

"Only if you're hungry," David answered.

"I'm not, but if you're hungry, there's more porridge. I could make you a bowl and bring it out. You would have it if you wanted it." He paused in answering because he was disconcerted that she still wasn't eating. "How about this. I'll make it and you can decide." She went into the cave before David could say anything and returned about five minutes later with a covered bowl and spoon. "I'll set it next to you." She frowned when she realized he hadn't eaten the cake or drank any water. "And, David, drink some water. You don't want to become dehydrated." She settled the meal next to him, pressing it into the blankets so it didn't move around. "I'll be back." A quick run of her fingers through his hair combined with a wide smile gave him a sense of comfort.

The singer didn't have time to say anything as she picked up her weapons and the front bar of the travois, quickly exited the ledge. "Melanie, you need to eat," he said softly with a sigh. He sniffed the air as the scent of the honey-laced porridge reached his nose. "That smells delicious." He watched the cleared area below and frowned as the woman tugged the travois to the edge of the woods. "You're working so hard," he whispered. On a deeper level, he realized she was having a lot more difficulty pulling the basically empty travois than she should have. "You're getting weaker, Melanie. What's wrong?"

The porridge caused his mouth to water and he soon turned toward the bowl. When he lifted the lid, he had to smile and close his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. He slowly ate the thick gruel and savored every bite. He realized when he chewed a few of the nuts that Spider had added walnuts, pecans, cashews, as well as a small nut he didn't recognize, but they were delicious. She must have added extra honey because it seemed sweeter than what he'd eaten for breakfast. After licking off the spoon so it was clean, he even licked out the bowl so he didn't waste a single drop. After setting the bowl down, he chuckled at his childish behavior. He ate the chocolate snack cake and drank one of the bottles of water. After sighing, he leaned back and rubbed over his stomach. "Delicious." He started to drift off before snapping awake.

"I need to keep an eye on Melanie," he said as he struggled to turn over to lay on his right side. After several minutes, he managed to find a comfortable position and propped himself up on his elbow, searching the edge of the woods for the travois or the woman. It took him several minutes to work out the visual details and figure out what Spider had already done; she'd removed the various containers from the travois and laid them open on the ground. As he watched, she came from the woods with the gathering basket and dumped it into one of the containers. "Those cargo containers must hold a lot more," he observed when the woman picked up the basket and returned to the woods, leaving the case open with the others. He wished he had binoculars or other means of seeing more detail at that distance. He watched for another thirty minutes or so as the woman slowly moved through the woods, gathering nuts and filling the basket, repeating the procedure of emptying part of it in the first container and part in a second one.

"David," the woman called out, her voice echoing several times. She looked toward the ledge and hoped the man was awake. She laughed when she heard a short tweet on the whistle and saw him wave his arm. "We'll need to work out some basic signals." She returned to the woods and glanced up every so often so she could keep an eye open for any sign that the singer was having problems or needed her for anything. She spent several hours gathering nuts, periodically calling out to the man and receiving a short whistle as a response. Even if it wasn't much, she felt better knowing they had a way to communicate.

After two hours David was starting to feel tired. The air wasn't very warm, but while the sun was shining and warmed the blanket, it wasn't overly bright. He never took his eyes off the woman as she moved and he found his mind wandering into areas it shouldn't. The last two months of the tour had been so stressful and his thoughts so negative, he'd avoided intimacy with Melissa. He'd had no urges to be with anyone else, even the groupies who threw themselves at him left him feeling nothing. As he relaxed a little more, he realized how much he missed the contact and wondered if his mental state would have been better had he still been his old promiscuous self. When he heard the woman call his name and he tweeted the whistle in response, he rolled to his back and sighed. Movement was becoming easier the more he did it and he felt mentally stronger than he had since crashing into the ocean, " _maybe even longer than that_ ", he admitted to himself.

As the day continued, his body became more sensitive to the touch of the clothing and the weight of the blanket. He brushed his right hand along the thick fabric and relished its warmth and fuzzy texture. He turned his head and sought out the woman, spotting her just inside the woods, still working on gathering nuts. Most of the containers were still empty, so he knew she'd be working on them for quite some time. She was also planning on getting bark which would add even more work. He frowned a little wondering about his sudden urges. He thought about what he was feeling; he knew it wasn't simply that he was horny. It wasn't anything so superficial or base. He drew a deep breath and recognized he wanted the intimacy that sex provided him; the release was secondary; he wanted the emotions, the caring about another and having them care about him, and especially the connection with another person that reached into their combined souls. He pressed into the blanket-covered wood lounge and tried controlling his impulses.

Another call of his name and another tweet on the whistle and he realized he was losing the battle with his mind. He shifted the blanket until it fell from his body. It still covered his feet and legs, which he was grateful for, but his torso was only covered by the button down shirt he was wearing. He glanced toward the woman again and was glad she was a little deeper in the woods. He had no idea how good her eyesight really was; she'd spotted tiny birds easily near the area of the forest where she was gathering nuts, while he was barely able to see her. She was a lot bigger than the little partridges. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and opened it before brushing his fingers over his skin. He savored the gentle caress of the slightly chilled breeze as it enhanced his own touch. He closed his eyes and focused on the shapes he traced over his skin; as his breath quickened, he became more aware of the tension in his ribs and questioned if he should be doing this. He gasped at the impact of the forbidden and continued his exploration. His nipples hardened almost immediately and he squirmed a little as the jeans he was wearing felt tighter.

"Be patient," he whispered to his lower body. He opened his eyes and searched for Melanie, frowning when he realized she was emptying another basket of nuts. He waited for her call and was worried when it didn't come immediately. She appeared to be standing for a long time. "Melanie?" David struggled to roll back to his side when the woman sat down. He thought about tweeting on his whistle but worried that she'd take it as an emergency. He just wanted to know she was okay, not have her come running. After a couple minutes, he became more aware of his open shirt and wondered what her reaction might be if she returned to find him in such disarray. His body responded immediately to that thought, surprising him in the strength of the reaction. He startled when he heard his name, causing him to smile and his body to jerk slightly. A short tweet on the whistle and he knew all was well. He decided she'd been working long enough to require a brief break to rest her back and legs and that it didn't indicate that anything was wrong.

The woman stood and returned to the woods. David thought she was moving more slowly, but couldn't be certain this far away. He returned to his back and tried picturing Melissa sitting next to him, running her hands over his chest, teasing him and periodically dipping a single finger into his waistband the way she often did, but each time he thought the image was settled, Melissa would disappear and Melanie would be there. He frowned at that. "We're engaged. I shouldn't be thinking about anyone else," he tried reining in his thoughts. He didn't even really know this woman. They were strangers, thrown together by the strangest of circumstances and serendipity. He thought about Melissa and their relationship. As he pictured how they met when Toni introduced them and how they spent so much time practicing for Glass Spider, he realized in many ways they also met by chance, definitely not typical circumstances. He grimaced when he remembered how her initial response had been of hero worship and a strong desire to please him, and to lesser degree Toni, instead of wanting to be an equal in a relationship. As they spent more time together, she did express more of her own wants and desires, but she still deferred to him most of the time.

David sighed as his thoughts continued for quite some time, his body had quieted and his urges subsided. He remembered a thought he'd had when Melanie had first moved them to the cave. He'd been thinking about why the woman acted the way she did, her attempts to disappear and her discomfiture with his flirting. Her competence was something he recognized and responded to without even being aware of it, that realization shocked him. Perhaps that was why her image came forth so strongly in the situation her competence, how she made him feel. At the same time, he had also realized that he felt something with her that he'd never felt with Melissa and he had to question if his friends were right that he was thinking with the wrong head. His fiancee was vibrant and being with her made him feel younger, but in some ways it was the typical older man, younger woman relationship. He searched his heart and while he knew he loved Melissa, he wondered if love was enough to sustain a relationship between them. Many people had discouraged them from getting together, most cited the massive difference in their ages. She was a babe just born, wearing diapers, when he was twenty and desperately trying to succeed in the music industry, living on his own, dealing with problems with money and contracts. He sighed and wondered if it had been fair for her to be with him. He'd already lived an entire life while hers hadn't even gotten started when they met. In reality, her life still hadn't started in many ways.

He responded again to his name echoing over the clearing and watched the woman as she continued working. She appeared stiff in her movements and he could clearly see she was struggling. He thought about blowing on the whistle to make her come up, but knew she'd drop everything and come running. That would force her to make another trip down to get the nuts and travois. He didn't want to waste her time and energy. He shoved his thoughts away and buttoned his shirt. The air was starting to become colder as the sun shifted toward the horizon. With a start, David realized the day was almost over, at least the daylight part of it. He watched in surprise as the woman closed most of the cases and stacked five of them on the travois, tying them down before returning to a different section of the woods. He frowned as she brought several loads of something cradled in her arms that she laid carefully in the two remaining containers, closing them and binding the remaining cargo cases on the travois. He thought she would return to the ledge right away, but she left everything but the weapons and slowly walked to the beach. He wondered if she intended to try spearing fish and while they weren't the most palatable things, he recognized that they seemed to be very easy for her to catch and cook. He searched the clearing and spotted several rabbits. He'd really prefer those, but he would not complain.

Spider reached the sandy beach and set her weapons down, struggling against her exhaustion, pain, and stiffness. She thought about what David had said earlier about needing to keep clean. The comment had forced her to admit that something was very wrong but she refused to admit what it was. She sat down and checked the pouch she carried the stones for her sling in and frowned at how few stones were left. She knew it was a fact of life that she would not always be able to recover the projectiles, especially true if she missed or put too much force into a throw. She would have preferred rocks rolled in a river current, but there was no river on the island, only a small stream bed and several shallow creeks were evident. With a sigh, she removed her boots and socks before standing and removing the rest of her clothes. The air was turning colder and the wind had picked up, no longer was it the gentle, warm breeze from earlier in the day. Now, it held a promise of a cold night and heavy frost by morning. She walked toward the ocean, the sand icy against her feet, but didn't hesitate to enter the cold water, moving carefully until she was almost twenty feet from shore before diving underwater.

David had observed the woman as she stripped down before entering the water. When she disappeared beneath the glass-like surface, he started to panic. "Melanie," he said softly as her head broke the water, grabbing a breath before diving again. The singer drew a deep breath in preparation to call out to her, but his ribs seized and he ended up coughing and gasping for air as his chest screamed in pain. He watched as she repeated the sequence several additional times, each one lasting longer than the one previous. David thought she was beginning to tire, but she continued. "No, don't leave me alone," David cried out as he finally drew a breath that wasn't accompanied by excruciating pain. He struggled to sit up and when something tugged at his neck, he remembered the whistle that hung there. "Of course." He put the whistle to his lips and blew out a sharp, shrill blast. He looked over the water and realized he couldn't see the woman any more. He added two more sharp whistles, trying to make them even louder causing his ears to ring. "Melanie," he whispered as he rolled to his left side, facing away from the water where the woman had disappeared. "What do I do now," he asked himself before sobbing. His shoulders shook as tears ran silently down his face. It had been years since he'd poured out his emotions like that without a catalyst of drugs, alcohol, suffering violence, or memories of violence. Within minutes, all the emotions of the day caught up with him, and the singer realized he didn't have the will to fight anymore. Darkness brushed over his mind and he allowed himself to fall.

~~~~~

"David?" Spider brushed her hand over the man's shoulder and arm. "Why are you uncovered?" She gently shook him, trying to wake him. The blast of the whistle had filled her with panic. After repeating the man's name over multiple times, she got the tiniest reaction from him, a deep groan followed by a gasp of pain. "Oh, David, what happened," she asked as she slid onto the wood pile behind him, ignoring the fact she was still dripping wet. She slid her left arm under his head and reached for the blankets that had been pushed down his body, covering him against the rapidly dropping temperature. The combination of the water and wind had her shivering slightly, but she held the man against her, hoping that somehow he was aware of her presence.

The singer fought against waking from the dream he was having. In it, Melanie was still alive and snuggled against his back, protecting him from the strange, completely foreign, deserted world he was trapped in. It felt so real. Her breath tickled the hair on his neck and her arms cradled him. She was shivering, but he could feel the heat of her body even through the blanket that covered his torso and legs. Water dripped on his neck and scalp, that last caused his brain to stop and wonder if it was a dream. "Melanie?"

"I'm here, David," she answered immediately, her words whispered directly into his ear. "What happened?"

"You drowned. I saw you go under the water and not come back up." He struggled to fully regain awareness. He wasn't yet convinced that he was having this conversation with the woman or if his brain was playing tricks on him. He felt dizzy and disoriented.

"I didn't drown. I," she stopped and thought about what he said. As gently as she could, she moved away from the man and turned over so she could look out over the water. Her gaze easily picked up where her clothes and weapons still laid in the sand; with slightly more effort she looked over the water to the area where the water shifted to a deeper color. She realized with a jolt that her last dive and underwater swim would have taken her beyond the area the singer could have seen her. "You thought I died," she whispered.

"You did die."

She turned back to the singer and forced him to roll to his back. "I didn't die. I'm right here." She saw the doubt in the man's eyes and frowned.

"It's all right, you needed to escape and that was the only route open to you." David's eyes closed. He couldn't believe what they were telling him now.

"Why would I need to escape?" Spider ran her hand through the man's thick, blond hair. As she looked him over, she realized his shirt was in disarray and the lanyard of the whistled was trapped inside it, looped around a button. "Did you get over heated this afternoon, David?" She remembered his blankets had been pushed aside, combined with the improperly buttoned shirt, it was the only explanation she could think of.

"Melanie?" His blue eyes flew open and he searched over the woman's face. "Are you really here?"

"I am, David. I wasn't trying to escape. I didn't drown. I would never leave you by choice; I'm here for you." She brushed her hand through his hair again before caressing the back of her fingers over the side of his face. His bruises were fading and had disappeared in places others they were barely visible.

"Why were you in the water?"

"I was gathering rocks for my sling. I can't always recover the projectile, so I need to have spares." She shrugged slightly. "I'd prefer to collect rocks from a riverbed or fast-running stream or creek, but there are none on the island, at least none that I've found so far," she admitted. "But, the last time I caught fish, I realized there was a cross-current in the bay. It reminds me of a rapidly running stream, but it's underwater. I don't know what to call it. Oceanography is one course of study I've never had any classes in." She grinned at the singer.

"You were, fishing, for rocks?" He seemed to stutter on the words.

Spider chuckled at how silly it sounded. "Well, yeah, I guess I was."

"Rocks are better than fish," David said with a smile. "But, Melanie, I saw you go under and not resurface. You looked so tired, I thought you'd drowned." His earlier emotional break threatened to overtake his mind again, but he fought against it. "I thought I was alone. I'm always alone. All the people I love leave me or betray me."

"You're not alone, David. I am tired, but I'll be okay." The sky was beginning to darken, the sun was almost below the horizon. "I thought I needed to gather more rocks soon before the water becomes too cold to enter." She looked at him with concern. While she could understand his fear of being alone without the skills and ability to take care of himself, for now, she couldn't comprehend why his mind immediately assumed she would kill herself to escape him. "David, I will not leave you; at least I will not leave you by choice," she amended. If they were trapped on the island for the rest of their lives, one of them would die first and it was possible it would be her.

"You won't leave me?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I will not leave you." It was the first time she'd knowingly lied to him; she hoped it would be the last. Or maybe it wouldn't be a lie and he'd be the first to die, leaving her alone. Inside, her heart seized at the thought, her breath caught and hints of panic welled up inside, threatening to overwhelm her. Even the idea of losing him to old age or injury, or some other incident caused her to feel physical and mental pain. It would mean that she'd failed him. She couldn't face what else her internal reaction might mean.

He rolled completely over and looked up at her face. "Thank you, Melanie," his voice was rough and filled with emotion.

"David, you're welcome, I'm not sure what you're thanking me for."

The singer's blue eyes blinked several times before his jaw dropped in surprise. "Um, Melanie, you're naked."

"Yeah." Spider blushed and shrugged. "I heard your three whistles and knew something was wrong. I raced back to shore. I wanted to get to you as quickly as possible and didn't take the time to run down the beach to get my clothes."

"You're wet, too." He remembered that he had felt water drip on his face, neck, and scalp, only now did he recognize that it was real. "I'm sorry." He blushed as he realized he was staring at her and his body was heating back up. Images of her touching him and how her finger had felt in his fantasy caused reactions that he hoped would not be noticeable in the rapidly falling light. He stifled a groan as his jeans tightened and he became partially erect. He closed his eyes and attempted to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Inside, he realized her behavior of trying to hide was intensely stimulative. He opened his eyes and kept them focused on her face. He was certain that she didn't intend her behavior to be so stimulating and he suspected the underlying reason. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong, David." Melanie smiled and gently brushed her fingers through the singer's hair.

"No, I'm causing you to make an extra trip to get the sled and your clothes." He turned away, unsure of how his visual exploration would be interpreted.

"Ah, yeah, clothes would be a good idea," Spider mumbled. She assumed David's behavior was because he found her body to be offensive in appearance. "I won't be long." She immediately stood and returned to the shore.

"Melanie?" David turned to watch her go, but she was already halfway down the ramp before he managed to turn over. "Behave," he whispered to his body. Her touch had been enough to rekindle his earlier urges, but when he'd realized she was naked, those feelings had turned to concern as well. He was afraid of what she thought of his open gawking, even though she'd appeared calm, he worried that she'd feel threatened. As he tried calming his thoughts, he thought about how she had looked; his concern increased a thousand fold when he realized he could see every one of her ribs, the outline of her sternum, and her pronounced collarbones. Her torso looked like pictures of concentration camp victims he'd seen in historical film reels and documentaries. His mind drifted lower and the way her hip bones protruded reminded him of his own when he was at his thinnest in the 70's. He closed his eyes and frowned.

He opened his eyes and searched the gathering shadows for the woman. He was surprised to see her standing, still naked, holding the spear thrower and several spears. He looked around and finally spied three deer standing near the far edge of the field. One dropped, a long spear completely piercing its skull, protruding out the forehead. He glanced back at the woman in time to see a second spear take flight. His body and mind reacted to the sight. The way she moved was similar to how she used her sling and while the movement was deadly, it truly looked like an exotic and extremely sensual dance. He turned his head to follow the path of the spear and watched as a second deer stumbled a few steps before falling. The spear had penetrated the deer, shoulder-to-shoulder. "How can she do that?" He knew something about how strong bone was and on a visceral level knew that it would take significant strength to throw a spear so it went completely through multiple layers of bone.

When he found the woman again, the singer struggled to sit up. He wanted to call out to her when he realized she had fallen and wasn't moving. He grabbed the whistle and had placed it against his lips when Melanie struggled to her knees, then to her feet. All he could do was worry and hope she would be all right. He refused to make her waste another trip to take care of him because he was useless. He watched as she dressed in her clothes before sitting down to pull on her boots. "She wasn't wearing her boots," he whispered to the silent air. The light breeze was completely still now. He looked around fighting against the feeling of foreboding that gripped his heart. He glanced toward the ledge outside the shed where he laid and gasped at the footprints in the dirt and stone; red, bloody footprints, he mentally noted. He felt deeper guilt at the recognition that the woman had injured herself reaching him.

"David?"

The singer startled as the woman paused near him, dragging the travois. "Melanie." He could tell by the set of her shoulders that the load she was pulling was extremely heavy. "The nuts?"

"And the birch bark." She wondered if he'd witnessed her spearing of the deer.

"You'll have to make another trip now." He answered her unasked question.

"I will gladly make the extra trip. Two deer volunteered for the cook pot." She chuckled and grinned.

"It makes hunting easier."

"That it does. Do you think you'd feel up to helping sort the nuts tonight?"

David jumped at the chance, at least as much as he could. "I'd love to. Are we going to crack them, too?"

"No, once sorted, I'm spreading them on mats to let them dry. I brought in cattails earlier and sorted them out to dry inside the cave. I'll use them to make storage containers for the nuts. The birch bark will make additional boxes for the meat." She frowned a little at the stiffness she saw in the man's movements. She suspected he did more than he should have and she wondered about his shirt. He always appeared to be very sensitive to chills so it seemed unlikely that he'd gotten too warm today. "I'll get these inside." She pushed the questions out of her head for the time being. It was several minutes before she emerged from the cave. "I'll get the deer and be right back."

He nodded before the woman turned away and went to the clearing. She struggled to load the deer onto the travois, but didn't pause to rest before returning. "All finished?"

"Finished, for now." Spider moved the deer to the tunnel before moving a steel sheet to cover the entrance. "Are you ready to go inside?" She propped the travois against the end of the shed then sat on the edge of the wood pile.

"I think so. Are you sure about this," he asked as she stood.

"I'm sure. Tomorrow, after the meat is cut up, I'm making that bed." She settled his right arm around her neck and lifted him into her arms. It took her several minutes to steady herself before she moved into the cave. She laid David down in his bed before she went outside and gathered the blankets, bowl, utensils, and other items. After replacing everything in its place, she returned to the entrance of the cave to check that the hide completely covered it. Inside the cave, a quick stir of the almost dead coals combined with the last of their starter material soon had the fire again burning brightly. She removed the lid from a cook pot and the cave filled with the smell of soup as steam rose from the rim. "Would you like some soup?" She didn't wait for an answer and ladled it into a bowl, picking up a spoon and mug of water before settling next to the singer's side.

"What's in it?" David licked his lips. It smelled delicious and his mouth was already watering.

"Elk jerky, a few pieces of leftover rabbit and partridge, cattail roots, and a little bit of the amaranth. The grains didn't soak up as much liquid as I thought they would, but they are very soft." She held out the first spoonful to the man and waited for him to eat it.

David savored the bite and made happy, contented noises after swallowing it. "Are you going to eat with me?"

"I'm not hungry. I have no appetite." The woman's tone was apologetic. It also held a hint of worry because she knew the work she was doing should have left her famished.

"Melanie," David said softly. He was deeply worried now; her lack of appetite combined with the odor he'd noticed the night before pointed to something being very wrong. He sighed before accepting the next spoonful of soup. Even though it was delightful, he felt terrible eating it in front of her. It took longer than he realized to finish and both of them were very tired. "Maybe sorting the nuts can wait until tomorrow?" He was relieved when Spider nodded. "You can teach me to weave then."

"That's a good idea. You don't have trouble going to sleep right after eating?"

"Not usually."

Spider looked him over before taking the dishes to the sink, quickly washing them and setting them up to dry. "Would you like a bath," she offered. "I can put a pot of water on to heat. I probably wouldn't wash your hair tonight, though."

"How about in the morning," David offered in return. "I'm tired and I know you have to be exhausted. Let's go to bed. I don't think either of us will have trouble falling asleep."

"True," she said with a chuckle and a yawn. "I'll put a pot of water on to heat through the night. There's enough soup for breakfast or I can mix it with some more amaranth and try making a very strange porridge."

David laughed aloud at that. "You haven't seen some of the strange things I've tried. I'm not the best cook in the world."

"Have you ever tried something strange and had it end up delicious?"

"Yes." He paused and gave her a cheeky grin. "But, those are few and far between."

"It's the trying that's important. And, you learn from your mistakes."

"Or scrape them into the garbage pail."

"Not here. We can't afford to waste food if it's at all edible."

David became serious. "While that is true, I don't think we have to worry about it. Everything you've given me has been delicious."

"Thank you. I'll try to keep up the winning streak." Melanie returned to his side and helped remove his clothing, frowning as she unbuttoned his shirt. "What in the world did you do to your shirt?"

"Why?"

"It was buttoned wrong and the lanyard is wrapped around the buttons. Why would you unbutton it? The air was not that warm today." She paused to disentangle the lanyard and set it aside before removing the shirt. "David?"

"Is it all right if I don't answer?"

"Of course. I was only curious. Where you were testing how well your fingers were working. Don't worry, your dexterity will return after everything has healed and you've started exercising your shoulder and arm."

"Oh, that's a relief."

Spider wasn't fooled by the man's innocent look and knew there was another reason for the disorderliness of his shirt, but it wasn't really important as long as he didn't get chilled. She took a few minutes to make certain everything was organized before returning to the singer's side. Her eyes fell on the notebook which made her remember that they were going to work on a layout for the garden. She closed her eyes and fought against suggesting they follow through on the plan.

"Melanie?" David turned to see what she was looking at. Spying the notebook, he glanced back at her face. He could see she was torn between accomplishing something else and getting some desperately needed rest. "It can wait until tomorrow or the next day. We have time before we plant anything." When her gray eyes met his, he gave her a gentle smile. "I am tired. My shoulder's a little stiff. Let me hold you, so it will feel better."

"Okay." The woman laid down, now that she'd stopped moving she could feel the strain in her muscles and even her bones felt like they were creaking. She was asleep immediately upon her head touching the pillow.

"Melanie," David prompted as he struggled to lay down. It took him several minute to shift to his side, but eventually he laid down, gently placing his arm around the woman's shoulders and tugging her closer to him. He snuggled against her back and each breath only brought the scent of the ocean salt water to his nose. Her hair was still damp and he suspected until it dried, he would be unable to smell anything else. Night fell outside the cave, but the pair was secure and warm within the protected space, both slept soundly, the periodic pop of the fire the only sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~
> 
> No snippet this time. I do plan on posting a few more of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


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